Disclaimer: Anything recognisable does not belong to me. Story is based on the books by JKR and inspired by other writers of this genre.

ABERRATIONS OF PERCEPTION

Harry was led into a spacious kitchen in the basement, apparently one of the few rooms in this house made fit for human use, to get his first earful of the day by none other than Mrs. Weasley of course. By the time the woman let go of him Dumbledore and a number of other people had arrived. Among them McGonagall, Snape, the 'Dung' man (recognisable by the smell), Bill, Charlie and six others he did not know the names of, which was remedied immediately though. It began to look like a formal meeting of sorts when the doors were secured against eavesdropping after everyone took seat. Dumbledore was presiding over his Order, sitting at the head of the long table.

And so the interrogation began. To his surprise, the old man did not bother with scolding him or offering excuses for having him secretly watched, or some such patronising nonsense. And in doing so he acknowledged him as someone to be taken seriously. Harry had to give him points for that.

"Harry, my boy, do you know why the blood wards on your relatives' house have fallen last night?"

Ah, well, that explained some things. "I have claimed the Potter Lordship."

A murmur went through the ranks and for a moment all eyes were drawn to his right hand lying on the table nonchalantly. His tone and facial expression were neutral, not accusing, yet were taken as such nonetheless, judged by the look on the Headmaster's face.

"I see. I must ask you to not leave this house without a security guard to accompany you, despite that. For obvious reasons of course. We all have only your safety and wellbeing in mind."

Harry leaned back in his chair not taking his eyes off of him all the time. "I will agree to that, but only on the condition that you stop intercepting my mail."

"What?!" Sirius all but jumped to his feet. "What do you mean by that?"

No one answered him. Most of the members were exchanging shocked or confused looks, some shifted uncomfortably in their seats though. Harry had his gaze focused on the old man still, drawing his godfather's attention there, too.

"Albus, what does he mean by that?" he all but growled in the back of his throat.

Dumbledore ignored him looking at Harry with calm severity. "I will abide by it."

"Very well," Harry folded his hands in front of him. "Should I find reason to believe that you went back on your word, I will bring charges against you and your..." he swept the table with an evaluating gaze "...group of vigilantes."

"Of course," Dumbledore inclined his head in recognition. "I must ask you to leave now though. We have important matters to discuss. I believe you will find the Weasley children in the drawing room on the second floor."

"Wait a moment! You are not including him into the Order?" Sirius was up in arms again.

"He is too young, Sirius, as you should well know!" Mrs. Weasley's fast reaction made it clear that it was an old argument.

Most of the present gave some sign of agreement. Harry could only snort derisively pushing his chair back to stand up. Mrs. Weasley meant well he knew, he doubted though that his age played any part in the Headmaster's reasoning. The old man saw him as a tool, not as an ally. That was why he was sending him away. He might want to reconsider his stance one of these days, Harry smirked to himself.

"My trunk, please," he addressed the round. Some of them were eyeing him as if he were an exotic specimen. The rest just stared. Clearly, he turned out to be not what they had expected.

Remus procured his trunk and Hedwig's cage in miniature form. Speaking of which.

"Will my owl be able to find me here?"

"Yes, the wards are set to allow owls through," Dumbledore informed him smiling slightly. Harry just nodded blankly and turned to leave.

"I will let you all know when it's time for lunch," Mrs. Weasley called after him.

xxxoooxxx

He had barely reached the first floor when he was accosted by the group of red-heads lying in wait.

"Harry, mate, where have you been? Mum said that the wards on your house are gone. We thought you were kidnapped by Death Eaters or something."

Ron's concern was honest he knew. And yet, in the face of what else he knew, he could not help feeling distinctly resentful.

"Death Eaters," he snorted. "What Death Eaters? I took care of quite a few of them two weeks ago. Voldemort would have a better use for those he still has left, I'm sure."

Ron was giving him a strange look. Like he did not know what to make of him anymore. Well, Harry had every intention to take a leaf out of Hermione's book where his once best friend was concerned. He had simply too much on his plate already to spare the energy needed to put on an act and indulge his juvenile behaviour. Ron could either take it or leave it. His choice.

"I needed to go to Gringotts to claim my Lordship after turning fifteen, but Dumbledore had me watched, so I took off in the middle of the night when the guards were changing shifts, walked a couple of blocks to the local train station and took a train to London."

The story was not quite true, but he wanted to keep a couple of trumps in his sleeve. Just in case.

"I've got my Hogwarts letter in the morning and decided to do my school shopping when I was at it. The guards caught up with me in Diagon Alley and brought me here. That's all."

Ron stared wide-eyed, the twins exchanged unreadable looks and Ginny furrowed her brows in confusion before voicing it.

"Why would you have to give them a slip? Why didn't you ask Dumbledore to get someone to take you there in the first place?"

Harry snorted. "As if he would have allowed it! Dumbledore has never even mentioned to me that I could do that. A partial emancipation by the Ministry means that I don't need to ask his or anyone else's permission for every single thing anymore. He loves to have his pawns where he wants them too much to allow that."

He gave Ron a hard stare. "By the way, why have you never mentioned to me that I could claim my Lordship at fifteen? I would think that as my best friend," he sneered at that part, "you would have been kind enough to tell me something so important." He did not even try to hide his anger. "Apparently not. Apparently, you must have thought that I don't need any more wealth and glory than I already have, isn't it so?"

Ron was spluttering incoherently and shaking his head in denial, but Harry ignored him turning towards the twins and Ginny instead. Ron could keep his excuses for all he cared. He did not want to hear them anymore.

"So, how was your summer so far?"

Ginny just stared at him in shock. The twins though exchanged another unreadable look before returning to their usual cheer and leading him to the drawing room on the second floor that they had been occupying prior to his arrival. It was in a just as deplorable state as the rest of the house, but at least clean and safe. They arranged themselves on the threadbare lounges and armchairs chatting about their clean-up adventures and what little they knew about the Order and their course of action against Voldemort. Ginny came around soon enough and Ron was doing a marvellous job at pretending that nothing had transpired between them. Harry decided to let him.

"So, Harrykins," twin one leaned into him grinning conspiratorially.

"Since you are a wand-wielder now, too," twin two leaned in from the other side, wearing a matching grin.

"Say, if we need a hand at some point..."

"to bring a bit of liveliness into this dull existence..."

"surely you'll be a good friend..."

"and help us out?"

Harry wrapped an arm around each back assuming a solemn face. "But of course, gentlemen. What are friends for?"

"Ah, that's our man," they patted his stomach from both sides.

He put his arms down reaching into his pocket to retrieve the contract Grimaxe had prepared for him.

"Speaking of business arrangements, I have a proposition for you. You are still aiming for your own shop?"

The twins nodded in unison grinning happily.

"I want to go into business with you as a silent partner. Twenty percent of your venue in exchange for any starting money you could possibly need."

He handed the contract to an astounded George; or at least he thought it was George.

"Take a look at it and tell me what you think. The terms can be adjusted to your liking of course."

Harry grinned feeling smug to have rendered them speechless.

"Harry, mate, we don't know what to say."

"We are interested of course," twin two added hastily.

"Take your time and tell me when you have decided. There's no hurry."

xxxoooxxx

The meeting downstairs lasted over two hours. They sure must have had a lot of things to discuss. In the meanwhile Fred and George had introduced him to a number of their potential products. The Extendable Ears were particularly worthwhile in his opinion. He could not wait and see what else their genius brains would spit forth in the near future. That shop of theirs was a dead sure investment.

When Mrs. Weasley finally called them down they were so hungry that they all but ran to the kitchen, bumping into Order members on their way out. Only those who either did not have a home, like Remus and Mundungus Fletcher, or whose homes were compromised, like the Weasleys and to his surprise, Snape, were staying at the headquarters permanently. Everyone else was all too eager to leave and Harry could not blame them.

Today's lunch had Tonks and Professor McGonagall as additions. Mrs. Weasley's shepherd's pie was as mouth-watering as always and Harry dug in with gusto, actually closing his eyes and moaning in appreciation. He opened his eyes just in time to catch Snape's intense, lingering gaze before it was averted. Huh, did he have something on his face? Harry took an inconspicuous look at his image mirrored in his polished silver goblet and found nothing out of ordinary. Strange. He shrugged it off and continued to eat.

"I still can't believe Dumbledore would not let Harry join the Order," Sirius complained to Remus two seats over. "After all that's happened, if anyone has the right to be included, it's him."

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to start her usual rant no doubt, but Harry beat her to it.

"You are talking as if I wanted to join in the first place."

Everyone's eyes turned towards him.

"You don't want to join?" Sirius was visibly shocked. And he was not the only one.

"No," Harry rolled his eyes at them. "Why would I? Your precious Order will be just as useless as it was the last time. Why on earth would I want to waste my time on it?"

That sent everyone but McGonagall and Snape into fits of vehement protest. Harry did not bother listening to them, continuing to eat his pie instead.

When everyone calmed down Remus took over the defence. "Now, Harry, I know it may have looked like that on the outside, but the Order has done a lot of good during the last war. We have saved a lot of people and undermined many of the Dark Order's plans. We were one of the few opposing groups that Voldemort considered a serious threat. And we will continue to fight for the good of our word until our last breath."

Harry snorted and put his fork down. "The good you have done was nothing more than a drop in a bucked, considering the overall picture. And in the end you were just running around, putting out fires."

He had put his time at the Ministry to a good use and gone through the archives to gain a better understanding of the state of affairs prior and during Vordemort's last bid for Wizarding Britain. Let's say, he was not impressed with what he had found.

"You were losing the war and fast. The Death Eaters were picking you off one by one like sitting ducks. Voldemort was mere months away from victory when he showed up at our house and blew himself up in a freak accident, the catalyst of which may or may not have been little ol' me. Merlin only knows what has really happened that night."

He looked from one face to another seeing the shadows of memory creep back into their eyes.

"You were useless!" he bellowed bringing them back to the present with a jump. "And you will be useless again." He took a sip of his pumpkin juice waiting to see if someone would still protest. Remus looked like he was going to say something again, so he decided to change tactics.

"You don't agree I can tell," he smiled impishly. "Then let's compare notes. What have you accomplished these past two months? On the war front I mean. Nothing? Just my point, you see!"

"That's not true!" Sirius shouted apparently quite agitated.

"Then tell me what you have accomplished," Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly. "What? Nothing comes to mind?"

He smirked at the continuing silence.

"Well, let me tell you what I have accomplished then," he put his hand on the table counting on his fingers. "I've got five out of nine remaining Inner Circle Death Eaters put away in Azkaban for life. The other four are now under strict surveillance and thus neutralised. With them many Second and Third Circle Death Eaters, and unmarked supporters went down as well. I've got Fudge taken out of office and replaced by a strong and capable leader. I've got the Ministry and many other public offices purged of their network of informants. I've got the public at large aware of Voldemort's return. And last but not least, I've got you a trial," he winked at Sirius. "And do you know how long it took me?"

He did not even bother hiding his smug smirk. "Two weeks."

The smirk disappeared to be replaced with a hard expression. "However, Dumbledore could have done all that and more just as fine. So, why the bloody hell has he not?"

"He had other things to do!" Sirius snapped at last. "There are far more important things going on which you know nothing of, so shut it, damn you! How dare you! You have no idea!"

"Really? Like what?"

Sirius opened his mouth to spill it all, but was stopped by the hissing of the others.

"Sirius!" Remus grabbed his elbow giving him a hard took. "That's quite enough!"

Damn! And it was so close, too. Harry sighed and returned his attention to his lunch tuning out the adults' squabbling. But at least he now knew for sure that there was something they were hiding. Something concerning him. Something of great importance. And he would need to find out what it was, no matter the cost, if he wanted to survive.

xxxoooxxx

The room he was sharing with Ron was on the second floor, as were all the guest rooms occupied by the youngsters. The adults preferred the bedrooms on the third floor, the family floor, mainly because they were ensuite. Sirius had assigned his mother's former bedroom to serve as Buckbeak's stable, no doubt to enact a bit of revenge.

The room was a decent size and the beds four-posters even larger than those they had at Hogwarts. When he went inside Hedwig was already there, greeting him with a hoot from the top of the wardrobe. He enlarged her cage and put it on the table under the window, refilling her food and water dishes again. His trunk and the new purchases went on the bed to be sorted out properly.

Ron had opted to stay away from him at the moment. It was clear that he did not agree with the bashing Harry had dished out earlier. Probably, because it was tarnishing his image of the glorious Order of the Phoenix that he no doubt had dreamt of joining ever since he had learned of its existence. Harry almost snorted in derision, but then remembered that if not for the wake-up call of his recent brush-up with death, he would be not much better right now. Thus, he should not judge too harshly.

He locked the door and cast a silencing charm to ensure some privacy and was about to call Dobby to help him go through his things when he noticed an empty portrait frame on the opposite wall. He stepped closer to investigate and cursed loudly once he saw the nameplate under it. Now, how high would be the odds to just happen to have a portrait of a former Hogwarts Headmaster in the room he was put in? Harry was very tempted to blast the thing off the wall, but decided to settle on a less violent solution. He covered the frame with one of his old school robes and cast a sticking charm on it, smirking at the muffled grumbling and cursing of the hidden occupant, which were cut off as soon as he applied a long term privacy ward. He would need to remember to reapply it once a week though.

Privacy secured, he called Dobby to his side.

"Dobby, how strong is house-elf magic exactly? You can apparate inside wizard wards I know, but are elf spells in general stronger than ours?"

Dobby shook his head giggling. "No, no, no, Master Harry, sir, wes is not apparating, wes is not casting spells at all. Wes take magic and will it to do things wes want it to do. Hard tasks takes more magic than easy ones, and sometimes wes cannot gather enough magic to do a task all at once, then wes have to do it bit by bit. And sometimes Mother Earth refuses to help us, even if wes could do the task."

Well, that was most fascinating! By the sound of it their abilities were almost limitless. He assumed Mother Earth was Nature itself and thus only the things that went against Nature were out of their reach.

"Like bringing something that's dead back to life?"

"Oh yes, yes," the elf nodded vigorously, ears flapping, "and making someone love someone else, or creating life, or..."

"Alright, I get it."

By Merlin, wizards were really imbeciles to look down their noses at the elven race. Hermione will be happy to learn that her S.P.E.W. had just gained another member. But back to the task at hand.

"I need you to take a look at all my things and tell me if there are tracing charms or harmful magic, or some such, placed on them."

Dobby snipped his fingers and Harry's glasses lifted off of his face, floating in front of him surrounded by a bluish glow.

"There is a strong tracing spell on your glasses, Master Harry, sir, but everything else is clean," the elf sounded indignant on his behalf. Harry on the other hand was torn between laughing hysterically and screaming in rage.

Of course there would be one on his glasses and of course everything else would be clean! He always wore his glasses wherever and whenever he went. There was no need for placing it on anything else. He plucked them out of the air and shoved them into the drawer of his bedside table. Squinting a bit he pulled out his newly acquired contact lenses and put them in, using the mirror inside his wardrobe to help. Other than the obvious, the advantage of these would be of course that he had to take them out only once a month to clean and replace them once a year. Looking himself over, he found that he loved them already.

That would do for now, but he would need to learn detection and dismantling spells as soon as possible. That much was for sure.

"Do you know how I could ward my trunk against intrusion, so that not even someone as strong as Dumbledore would be able to get in?"

"Blood wards is the best for that, Master Harry, sir."

Harry nodded deciding to take a good look at the library on the first floor. Surely, there would be a book or two on the topic in there?

"And do you know if there is a way to detect poisons and other harmful potions in my food and drink, other than a detection spell I mean?"

"Your Lordship ring will protect you, Master Harry, sir. It will heat up in warning."

"Really?" Harry looked at it astounded. "That's dead useful!"

Dobby shifted on the spot looking guilty all of a sudden.

"Master Harry, sir, I is giving you potions."

Harry frowned not quite sure if he understood him correctly. "What do you mean? What potions?"

Dobby looked up wringing his hands nervously. "Master, Potions Master, has been paying Dobby to give you potions. Almost eight months now. They are for your health, he is saying, and Dobby knows he is not lying. Dobby has seen them doing you good, Master Harry, sir."

His insides ran cold and his thoughts rampant in an instant. He took several deep breaths to calm himself down. He would take a look at those potions before assuming the worst, but if Dumbledore was dosing him with mind controlling substances, so help him Merlin!

"It's alright, Dobby, I'm not angry at you," he told the progressively despairing elf. "Can you show them to me, please?"

Dobby disappeared and reappeared a moment later holding three vials in his hands. He showed him a murky brown and an orange coloured one. "These is to go first, Master, Potions Master said, and then this," he held up a deep red coloured one. "Once every ten days, he said, until he says to stop. He has not said to stop yet, Master Harry, sir."

Harry took the brown and the orange one finding them actually rather familiar. Taking a sniff at each he had them identified beyond doubt. Nutritive Potion and Vitamin Supplement. Huh? Nothing too alarming so far.

The red one was a different matter. He took a sniff and froze wide eyed. Dumbledore had no knowledge about this whatsoever, that much he could now tell with absolute certainty. That coopery smell could only belong to a blood potion and all blood potions were Dark. They were either illegal or strongly regulated by the Ministry. Dumbledore may be ready to go quite far, but any use of the Dark Arts he was vehemently against, even in cases of emergency.

Snape was acting on his own, but what could this potion be possibly for? And he was given it for almost eight months, Dobby said? He had a vague recollection to have seen a picture of a potion that particular colour somewhere. If only he could remember where!

Struck by a sudden epiphany he put a drop of it on his tongue tasting the essence of woodruff through the blood, Re'em blood he now knew. The Growth Potion. Sweet Morgana, Snape was giving him the Growth Potion!

He stared at the vial in his hand in absolute astonishment. Then he laughed out loud half bitter half amused. And here he had been so proud of his growth spurt! He snorted. He should have known better. Ten years of malnourishment could never be corrected, not the natural way at least and not the legal way magically, or Madam Pomfrey would have mentioned it by the end of the third year at the latest. He had entered fourth year almost a head shorter than most of the girls.

He turned towards the anxiously waiting Dobby and smiled reassuringly. "Continue administering the potions to me, until Snape tells you to stop," he handed the vials back to him, "but the next time someone asks you to give me potions for my own good, ask for my approval first."

"Of course, Master Harry, sir!" The elf was most happy to not have done anything wrong.

"That would be all, Dobby, thank you," he dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Left alone he removed the locking and silencing charms from the door to avoid suspicion should someone want to come in. Then, he stood and stared at his things piled on the bed for a long moment, head reeling from the recent revelation.

Snape, the hateful, vicious git of a man, had gone behind Dumbledore's back, broken a good dozen Ministry laws, spent a lot of money, brewed a difficult and time consuming potion and gone to quite a length to ensure he would get it without anyone knowing.

Why?

Harry went over to his bed and started sorting through his trunk lost in thoughts. Books and other school supplies went to the left, old school robes and Dudley's hand-me-downs on the floor, broom, Quidditch supplies and other possessions to the right.

Maybe, Snape was a good and selfless man at heart, but was hiding it behind a hard facade. Maybe, he had taken a look at his midget stature and felt pity for the poor, abused orphan and wanted to do something nice for him, but behind his back, because it would ruin his reputation as the evil bat of the dungeons otherwise.

Harry snorted derisively. Yeah, sure.

He cast a cleaning charm on the inside on his empty trunk before starting to pack it again. Books and school supplies, old and new, went to the left, his new wardrobe in the middle, and the rest to the right.

Maybe, he wanted Harry to owe him a favour, something to be collected later. He had a lot of wealth and influence, political and otherwise, maybe Snape had a need of it in one capacity or another.

But why doing it in secret then? The Slytherin thing would have been to call him into his office, put the offer and the conditions on the table and secure an agreement. As the things stood now, it was completely up to Harry if he would feel honour bound to repay him or not. That did not make any sense and was therefore unlikely. There must be some other reason. But what else could it be?

Nothing altruistic and nothing related to business. That left only something personal. Sirius had told him once that Snape owed his father a Life Debt. Was he seeking to repay it that way? Then, he remembered the broom incident in his first year and the Werewolf incident in his third. Snape had already repaid that one, so it could not be it.

Suddenly, he remembered the look he had caught Snape giving him at lunch and nearly dropped the bottle of broom polish he was holding on the floor.

No! Surely not? But there was really no other explanation. Snape was giving him the Growth Potion, so he could feel less of a paedophile when imagining him naked!

For a moment he could not decide if he should be amused or disgusted. Snape was truly a nasty, ugly bastard, both on the inside and the outside, completely mercenary and utterly self-serving, too. However, he must have some sort of twisted moral code he adhered to or he would not have done what he had.

Harry emptied all his pockets and undressed himself completely, changing into the newly purchased underwear, summer tunic and pants, socks and nice dragonhide boots. The pile of ghastly muggle clothes and old robes on the floor was levitated into the empty fireplace and set on fire. That part of his life was hereby over and done with. He was a Lord as of today and it was high time he started looking the part, even though it would be a long time until he learned to act the part, too.

Snapping the lid of his trunk shut he levitated it down to the foot of the bed before deciding to give it a test lie. The bedding and sheets seemed to be either new or transfigured and definitely very comfortable. He stared at the canopy above him pondering how he could possibly get hold of the information the Order was hiding from him and before he had to go back to Hogwarts, too, since it would be nearly impossible from there.

Remus, McGonagall and the Weasley parents he could forget straight away. Bill and Charlie were closer to his own age and liked him well enough, but he doubted they would go against Dumbledore's direct orders, not to mention their parents'. That would compromise the mission or some such rot and they were not stupid like that.

Sirius would have been his best shot in this, but was too pissed off with him at the moment to give him even a hint. He would need some time to cool down, time that Harry did not have. He could manipulate him into blurting something out he supposed, if he could get him away from the others long enough. But they surely would watch out for that now, Remus in particular, knowing that Sirius was a liability.

Damn!

Or he could seduce Snape and blackmail him into telling him everything.

He laughed it off as a silly idea at first, but thinking about it further his laughter soon died down. He could, couldn't he? Either that or try his luck with the rest of the Order members visiting on occasion, who he knew almost nothing about and would not know how to approach properly in the first place.

But could he really? Thinking about it and actually doing it were two different things. Snape was a beast of a man, he would not be gentle, and to be mounted and ripped apart was certainly not how he wanted his first time to be. His first time, he snorted. What was he, a bloody girl? Romantic notions had to be put aside where survival was at stake.

Was that how the prostitutes on the streets must feel every time they readied themselves for work? Yes, possibly. He shook his head to get back on track.

He could endure it, he was quite sure. He could endure the Cruciatus Curse, a bit of rough sex would not do him in. How long would it take for Snape to come anyway? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? And he could use magic now to heal himself afterwards. He had a jar of Quidditch Salve, too.

Fuck! He fisted his hair with both hands squeezing his eyes shut. What the fuck was he thinking! What shit was going through his head!

Feeling sick to the depth of his soul he leaned over the side of his bed and retched hard, his entire body convulsing, nearly making him choke on his own vomit. Coughing and spitting his guts out until nothing was left, he was finally able to draw air into his lungs. Falling back on the bed and gulping it greedily he fumbled for his wand and vanished the mess he had made, adding a mouth cleaning and a breath freshening charm as an afterthought.

He lay there unmoving for a while, staring up at nothing. Calm, empty, removed from disgust, removed from fear, from pain during it and from shame after it was done, that was how he was going to do it. And do it he will, there was no other way. He was alone. Always alone. He had no one to stand up for him, no one to protect him. He could run, he could hide, but never for long. They would find him sooner or later, the Light Lord or the Dark Lord. He had to wonder who was going to be worse in the end.

xxxoooxxx

The birthday party had surprised him. He really did not know why, it was his birthday after all. Maybe, because of the argument at lunch or everything he had on his mind before and since then. It did not matter though. It was great!

A lot of people had invited themselves. Boy, he must be popular! But the more the merrier and the huge pile of presents was definitely a plus. Fred and George were in their element. So many inebriated testers around, who would waste such an opportunity? Harry had laughed like he had not for quite a long time. Even the drunk older girl, he could not remember whose sister she was, that had ambushed him on the way back from the loo could not diminish his mood in the least. Especially, when Snape had materialised from the shadows and all but hexed her three ways to hell, confirming Harry's theory about him quite well.

Snape had actually stayed put to the very end, long past midnight, until the very last of the guests had flooed out. Probably, to make sure that no one stayed behind to try and warm Harry's bed again. Honestly, thinking back to how he had shadowed his heels almost the entire last year, it was quite obvious. No one had noticed because no one would have ever considered it a possibility, and no one ever will. Snape was asexual as far as they were concerned and he was stalking Harry because he had been ordered to keep an eye on him, and that was all.

Yeah, sure, and what was that? He tilted the bottle of the lemon scented lubricant he had found under his pillow to be able to read the label in the light of the candle on his bedside table. Thankfully, Ron was already snoring away with no care in the world. It was a premium product infused with Venus' Breath to take away any possible discomfort during penetration. And would have cost a pretty coin were it really bought at Slug & Jiggers as the stamp indicated. If Harry had not known better, he would have thought it a prank present from Sirius. He did know better though, since he had not seen that particular product at that apothecary this morning. And yes, he had taken a look, just out of curiosity of course.

There was only one other party it could have come from. Snape must have brewed it himself and given it to him as a birthday gift, hiding his involvement carefully enough to not rouse suspicion towards himself. Harry snorted in disbelief at the man's audacity; giving him a bottle of lubricant, but chasing away any potential lovers. Oh, well, he grinned mischievously despite his rapidly rising nervousness. That would make his undertaking far less painful than it could be otherwise, so who was he to complain.

He cast a silencing spell around his bed and called for Dobby. He had written a letter to himself that he gave the elf to keep for him until tomorrow, just in case if Snape decided to obliviate him instead of answering his questions. One could never be too careful. Closing his eyes for a moment to strengthen his resolution, he blew his candle out and ordered Dobby to apparate him to Snape's room without making any noise.

Once there he dismissed the elf and took a look around. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, he could feel the pressure in his ears. Snape was in the bathroom indicated by the muffled noises of the shower inside.

The room was sparsely furnished and dominated by the large mahogany four-poster draped in deep blue to match the carpeting and the overall colour scheme. Harry was surprised to find any colour other than black or green, but supposed that Snape had just kept what he had found here, not caring one way or another. Taking a deep breath to get a grip on his trembling body he decided to wait for Snape naked in the bed, to present himself to maximum effect.

The minutes stretched themselves to impossible lengths. Lying between fine linen sheets Harry stared at the canopy, breathing in and out, calming down, relaxing. Everything would be alright. The lubricant would make sure it did not hurt too much. Maybe, he would be able to enjoy it at least somewhat, maybe even have an orgasm. He closed his eyes for a moment feeling strangely aroused. Did he want to get off? Yes, he did. He wanted to enjoy his first sex, no matter who he had it with or for what reason.

Finally, the shower noises ceased. Harry's heartbeat went up a notch in anticipation, but not to an extent that it could not be controlled. The door in the far left corner of the room opened and Snape came out wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. Not noticing the intruder in the bed, he opened his wardrobe, apparently in search of some nightwear. Harry could only stare with bated breath at the strong planes of his exposed back. Snape may have an ugly visage, but his body was not bad, not bad at all. Long, elegant limbs muscled just so as to not appear bulky, broad, but not too broad, shoulders, narrow hips and a very appealing backside. The skin was an unhealthy pale colour of someone who rarely saw the sun, marred noticeably by a collection of old scars.

Harry blushed and felt himself harden for real. Who would have thought that Snape was hiding that under his severe, high-collared robes?

Snape pulled out a cream-coloured nightshirt and turned around closing the wardrobe door behind him. His chest was just as appealing as his back Harry found, swallowing through his suddenly dry throat. A moment later Snape finally saw him and dropped the shirt in his hand out of sheer shock, staring at him wide eyed. Harry wished he had a camera with him to be able to capture the look on his face. The blackmail potential of that one alone would have been great indeed.

The shock was replaced by the usual impassive mask soon enough, though it was clear that the man was thrown out of balance quite severely.

"Potter, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here? How did you get in without triggering the wards in the first place?"

He spared a quick glance towards the door before summoning his wand into his hand and checking his security measures for breaching. Harry was very impressed by his display of wandless magic and rather embarrassed that the demonstration of power aroused him noticeably.

"I have my ways and means," he smirked at the Potions Master's disgruntled expression when he found nothing wrong with his wards. "And as to my presence in your bed, that I believe is self-explanatory."

Snape was not impressed. "Very funny, Potter! Has your mutt of a godfather put you up to this? As if I would believe even for a moment that you are naked in my bed!"

Snape pulled the covers hard revealing exactly that. For a long moment there was silence again. Snape's face acquired a smidgen of colour around his cheeks, while his glittering black eyes roamed the exposed body before him hungrily. And Harry knew then with an instinctive certainty that he would get what he came here for tonight.

Snape let go of the covers he was still holding and slowly, very slowly, as if to not scare away his prize, unwrapped the towel and let it gather around his feet. Harry's breathing hitched ever so slightly, despite his best efforts to suppress it. The man was glorious down there, even half-hard. Long, yet not too thick, Harry imagined that he would be able to handle him just fine. He looked up into the man's face. The black eyes meeting his were now pools of molten lust. Deep. Impenetrable. He found them unbelievably attractive, considering that the rest of his face was decidedly not.

Taking his staying put as an invitation to proceed, Snape climbed onto the bed and covered his body with his own, propping himself up slightly with his knees and elbows as to not to crush him. Harry's breathing hitched again. He was rather surprised just how eager he was to get to it when he had been all but trembling in his slippers mere ten minutes ago.

Not taking his eyes off of the man's face the entire time, he raised his hand showing Snape the bottle of lube. He saw a spark of recognition in the bottomless depths, even though just for a second, and smirked secure in the knowledge that his assumption had been spot on. Snape's body shifted. The bottle was taken out of his hand and put aside. Then, his chin was tilted and he received his first ever kiss.

Not even a minute into the action and things were going not the way he had expected them to. He had expected to be grabbed roughly, his mouth plundered and his lips bitten bloody. Instead, Snape's lips were moving against his in a practiced, yet gentle, manner. He closed his eyes trying to respond in kind as best as he could. Snape's breath was warm on his face and neck, making him shiver with its intimate caress. The oversized nose was pressing slightly into his cheek, though he found that enjoyable, too. The sly tongue running along his bottom lip startled him for a moment. He recognised however what it wanted and opened his mouth to let it in.

Snape moaned as he deepened the kiss, pressing himself firmer into his body. Harry had honestly expected such a generally unpleasant man to taste just as unpleasantly. To his surprise, neither his mouth nor his breath was in any way foul. On the contrary, he could swear he tasted faint traces of vanilla. He found he liked it very much.

When they finally broke apart for much needed air, Harry was rather surprised to have found his arms wrapped around Snape's back. He could not remember to have put them there. His musings were soon interrupted by the hands and lips exploring his neck, collarbones and chest, increasing the state of his arousal to the point of moaning and squirming most embarrassingly. He bucked into the hand cupping his balls and aching cock, throwing his head back and crying out with abandon. Oh, god, the callused fingers against his sensitive skin was just too much! He spread his legs to offer better access, bending them when Snape shifted to settle himself in-between, pressing their cocks against each other.

Oh, fuck, it felt so good! So good! His brain was all but mush at this point. His hands were fisted in Snape's hair, barely sparing a thought towards its fine, silky texture. Their mouths were meeting forcefully, again and again, stealing each other's breath.

When Snape sat up suddenly and fumbled for his wand he could not help mewing in protest, reaching out for him mindlessly. The slightly tickling sensation of a specialised cleaning spell brought him back to reality and he tensed up a bit watching the heavily breathing man uncap the bottle and pour some lubricant into his hand.

The finger entered him slowly, was twisted around a couple of times and pulled out only to return accompanied by another. Harry relaxed and leaned back giving in to the oddly pleasant sensation. His half-closed eyes flew open when his hips jerked forwards on their own accord after Snape's fingers became acquainted with his prostate. The man chuckled raggedly at his reaction and Harry flushed even more than he already was, giving him a half-hearted glare. That aside, it had felt damn good! He could not wait to feel something more substantial brushing against it at every forward thrust.

It staggered him for a moment just how careful and patient Snape was with him, taking his time to prepare him properly, despite the burning lust clearly visible in his eyes and the slight trembling of his frame. It made him realise just how self-righteous and prejudiced his assumption had been that the man would all but rape him given the chance. Only because he was a Death Eater, it did not mean that he enjoyed inflicting pain on others. Or at least not that sort of pain, he backtracked slightly remembering who he was talking about.

Snape was penetrating him with three fingers now and he made a couple of experimental rotations with his hips to meet them halfway, licking his lips unconsciously. The hungry gaze watching him intensified from one moment to another and before he could even register it properly, the fingers withdrew to lubricate the rigid member pointing at him eagerly. His thighs were lifted and arranged around the man's waist before he took himself in one hand, putting the other on Harry's shoulder for better leverage. Then, he leaned forward guiding himself to his opening and breached it with one firm push.

Harry cried out breathily despite himself. It was not painful, not at all, just so strange. He felt his inner muscles yield to the slowly intruding thickness bit by bit, until the man's scrotum aligned with his backside. He released the breath he had not realised he was holding and forced himself to relax.

So, that was how it really felt to be intimate with a man. He felt strangely vulnerable for a moment, open, connected. He had not expected something that he considered to be just casual sex to touch him on such a deep, emotional level. The expression on Snape's face close above him was most fascinating, too. It was a picture of blatant bliss; closed eyes, relaxed features, mouth slightly open, almost smiling. Harry could not help staring at him in wonder, until the man remembered himself and opened his dark eyes to look down at him.

They were black, not just a really dark brown, but black. He did not think that humans could have eyes like that. Did he have some creature inheritance in his bloodline? One thing though was for sure, they were breathtakingly beautiful.

Catching up with his own thoughts Harry blushed ferociously. Oh, god, how completely and utterly humiliating! Snape was looking at him, face unreadable, and Harry had a sudden urge to go crawl under a rock somewhere and die. Just for how long had he been staring like a besotted fool? Apparently, long enough for the man to notice.

Feeling exceedingly uncomfortable he turned his head away, but was turned back by the gentle pressure of a hand cupping his cheek. Snape leaned in smiling slightly and kissed his lips, reassuring him that he was not thought of any less for his little moment of madness. Then, he started thrusting into him with long, measured strokes, picking up pace after a while, and everything was forgotten, drowned in boundless pleasure.

At least for now.