WARNING: This chapter delves into BDSM and is sexually explicit. Also, just to let you know that this story, on occasion, will be falling into the genre of "Porn WITH Plot", haha. If this makes you uncomfortable, I'd advise you not to read this instalment. It's hard not to be kinky though when writing Snarry. For those that don't mind, ENJOY!

Chapter Four

Oversaturation

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, Harry?" Neville Longbottom was sincerely distressed, "You're brave enough to come back here, let alone talking to Snape like that! You're lucky he didn't hex you, or worse. Though that was brilliant sarcasm! So good to see you, ha! But, you know he's probably off telling He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named that you're here right now!"

"I find that highly unlikely, Neville, but thank you for your concern," Harry replied, unperturbed. It hadn't taken him long to get over his disappointment with Severus for his indecorous reaction to his inopportune homecoming. What else could he have expected, given the dire circumstances? Besides, Snape did not know the real reason for his return to Hogwarts. Severus did not know that he came from the future, with both magnificent and melancholic tidings. But soon, he would know. At some point, Harry would explain everything to his former professor. First, however, Harry wanted to bask in the titillating delight of his pseudo-seventeen year-old existence. This was, after all, what he had come for. To see Snape's reaction to his being there, juvenile and jeopardized. What lengths would he go to save him from the Carrows? From Voldemort? Morbid curiosity had certainly gotten the best of him.

"Hurry up and finish your pumpkin juice, Harry," Ginny nagged, "We've got to get to class."

"Lay off, Gin, would you? Come to think of it, I don't want to catch Spattergroit, so maybe we should keep more of a distance between us…." Harry groaned.

"Don't be silly, Harry. Ron's, uh, the one with Spattergroit, not me! And after what we did last night, what would it matter?"

"I only thought of it now. Listen, I just don't want to take my chances, all right? I can't afford to fall ill this year, for obvious reasons."

"Oh, all right. We don't have class together anyway. I have Potions first. You'll have to look off Neville's schedule."

In a huff, Ginny left the Great Hall with her schoolbooks under her arm.

"We'd better hurry, Harry. We've got Muggle Studies with Alecto Carrow and I don't think I'd like to find out what she does to students who arrive late," Neville wrung his hands.

Pumpkin juice spilled out of Harry's nostrils as he struggled not to laugh. Was he really that mad that he would attend Alecto Carrow's class? What would happen if he showed up? Would Snape try to stop him?

Only so many things could happen, Harry decided, knowing how it all ended. Most importantly, he couldn't die. And whatever didn't kill him would only make him stronger, right?

Downing the rest of the pulpy orange beverage, Harry joined Neville at the Great Hall's entrance. He wondered where Snape had gone following their previous encounter. Why hadn't he expelled him immediately or requested a private meeting in his office? Perhaps he really was conferring with his fellow Death Eaters as to the appropriate plan of action. He hoped not. He likely couldn't die, but nothing ruled out the Cruciatus. It certainly could prove to be a physically painful day.

"Oi! Potter!"

"You weren't going to go skipping off to class without saying hello! That'd be impolite."

A cacophony of obnoxious voices called out behind him. It was Crabbe and Goyle.

Terrified, Neville took off running to the first floor classroom.

"Come on, Harry! Don't let them catch you. Hurry! I'll save you a seat in class!"

In all his wisdom, Harry wasn't so easily scared off.

"Hello gentlemen," he said smugly, "How were your summers?"

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, dumbfounded, as they lumbered over to meet their adversary.

"You ought not to speak to us like that, Potter! Don't you know your place?" Crabbe spat.

"Yeah, your rightful place at this school, you filthy half-blood! More like six feet under!" Goyle added.

"Locomotor Mortis! Stupefy!" Harry summarily stopped his opponents in their tracks. He finished them off with a slug vomiting charm, "That's Head of the Auror Office to you!"

"Head of the Auror Office, my foot! I've never heard such awful bullshit, Potter, not even coming from you," Draco Malfoy remarked derisively, "Who the bloody hell do you think you are? Do you honestly think you'll survive the day?"

Harry kept his hand on his wand, but was hesitant to use force against Malfoy, knowing that he would later change sides.

"No, you're right. I'm not head of the Auror Office yet, but I will be," Harry conceded smoothly.

Draco snorted, "Rubbish, Potter. I almost feel sorry for you and your delusions of grandeur. You'll never make it."

"We'll see," Harry replied shortly.

"INCARCEROUS!" a strident female voice echoed through the Entrance Hall, and out of the blue, Harry found himself bound in coarse tan ropes.

"What the –" Draco started, shocked by Alecto's expediency in making Potter her political prisoner.

"Damn it," Harry exclaimed woefully, the wind blown out of his sails.

"Well done Draco! Well done Draco!" Alecto Carrow cackled, apparently overjoyed, "How did you ever manage to lure Potter here so early in the semester? Today's class shall be more entertaining than I ever could have imagined!"

"Uh, great?" Draco replied, mildly embarrassed by his stout professor's undeserving praise.

"RENNERVATE!" she quickly freed Crabbe and Goyle, while leaving Harry tied up pathetically next to them.

"Crabbe. Goyle. Bring our hostage to the classroom and stand him up front, if you please," Alecto crooned with a sadistic sweetness redolent of Dolores Umbridge.

"This'll teach you Potter," Goyle sniggered, helping Crabbe pick up the scrawny Gryffindor.

"You could have used magic, you dimwits," Draco rolled his eyes at his friends' idiocy.

"No matter, Draco. This is Muggle Studies after all," Alecto simpered, marching ahead in ruthless determination, "Who knows? We might even forgo the Cruciatus curse for today in favour of something more, shall we say, 'hands on'?"


Ten minutes later, Severus emerged from the broom cupboard, drained of his prior cocktail of grief and lust. He had been so preoccupied with his activities therein that he did not hear the commotion going on outside.

"Why, headmaster!" Filch called out, "What were you doing in my broom cupboard?"

"Argus, how long have you been standing there?" Snape queried in sheepish defeat.

"Not very long, sir. I was just about to go in there to get a few rags."

"I wouldn't," Snape said quickly, "I've just discovered that students have been using it as a hiding place for –"

"This closet smells of sex, headmaster! Would you like me to sniff out the culprits?"

"No, Argus, that's quite all right. I have it under control," Severus muttered awkwardly, leaving the area. He needed to speak to Minerva at once. If Potter were to stay at Hogwarts for any length of time, the castle would need to be secured. That meant casting a Confundus charm of some sort on every single student and staff member. Under no circumstances could news of Potter's presence leave the castle until Snape had decided what to do with the foolish lad.

He found McGonagall in her classroom, instructing a group of second-year Hufflepuffs on how to transfigure mice into teacups.

"Honestly, Minerva, at a time like this!" Snape admonished her strangely, "When are they ever going to use that pointless spell?"

Minerva rolled her eyes, flippant. As if she was going to listen to the wizard who killed Albus Dumbledore!

"We need to secure the castle," Severus continued on, ignoring his colleague's rebellious demeanour, "You're going to need to confund every last one of your Gryffindors, save Potter. The Hufflepuffs too. I want this kept between us."

"And to what effect shall I confund the masses?" McGonagall responded wryly.

"We need to ensure that no owls go home, or to the Daily Prophet, or to anywhere or anyone else that let slip that Harry Potter is in this castle," Snape said seriously, "Implant false memories if you must."

"Why should it matter to you if others know Potter is here?" Minerva snapped, "You want him dead, don't you? I'm surprised you haven't served him up on a plate to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named already!"

"It is not yet time," Severus explained mysteriously, "For our young Mr. Potter to meet his maker. I thought you'd be happy about this."

"I suppose I am," Minerva admitted, "Though I'm feeling somewhat confounded myself, at the moment."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to any other staff members, Minerva. I'd like this to stay between us," Snape implored.

McGonagall's expression softened.

"Would you like me to confund the Slytherins and Ravenclaws too?"

"Yes, I was going to take care of them myself, but that would be very much appreciated," Severus sounded relieved, "I trust you to do this, Minerva. To the best of your ability."

McGonagall looked at Snape thoughtfully for a moment.

"I promise I'll explain all this to you, one day," he whispered.

Minerva pursed her lips.

"I'll do as you say, today, Severus Snape. For Potter's sake. But you're dead wrong if you think I care to hear your side of the story after how you betrayed Albus. Oh, and by the way, all this is for naught if Alecto Carrow has her way. You do realize the seventh-year Gryffindors and Slytherins currently have Muggle Studies?"

"Yes, but Potter wouldn't be so stupid as to –" Snape began, but then remembered whom he was talking about, and was off like a shot.


"Have you brought the said implements, Filch?" Alecto inquired excitedly, having enlisted the squib's assistance with Potter's public chastisement, "I was not aware that Muggles had their own instruments of torture!"

"Yes, m'am," Argus replied, practically drooling at the thought of Potter getting his just desserts, "I've brought the cane, cat o'nine tails and tawse up from the dungeon! I've been waiting for an opportunity to whip a student for quite some time now."

"Fascinating. Class, your resident squib has just schooled me in the art of Muggle corporal punishment. No match to the Cruciatus, I'm sure. Still, let us see how these pathetic Muggle devices measure up, shall we?"

Tethered at the front of the class, Harry waited anxiously for his fate to be decided. For all the years of neglect he had suffered at the Dursley's, he had never once been beaten in his waking life. His erotic dreams were quite another story. That being said, this was no clandestine reverie. Sure, he might be a visitor from the future, but he was still here in front of his peers, about to be flogged. It would become a matter of public record. All those years afterward, this had already happened. How had he ever looked Neville Longbottom in the face again? How could he have known? Merlin, time travel was tricky business.

"Strip!" Alecto cried suddenly, upon conferring with Filch as to how the strokes were to be administered.

"That's right, Potter. You're to be thrashed on the bare," Argus reiterated gleefully.

"You sick bastards! This is how you get your jollies, isn't it?" Neville spoke up, his voice shaking.

"I'd advise you to shut it, Mr. Longbottom, unless you'd like to show your classmates how long your bottom really is!"

The Slytherins hissed with laughter.

"Now that just wasn't fair," Draco Malfoy stifled a chuckle, "Longbottom, what a hoot."

"I can't," Harry began, humiliated, "I can't move… to take my clothes off."

"Of course you can't! You're tied up!" Alecto howled amusedly, "Draco, would you do the honours?"

"Er…what?"

"I am giving you permission to undress Potter."

"Can't someone else do it? I'm not his nanny."

Filch raised his hand and started waving it in the air.

Alecto ignored him and lazily cast a disrobing charm.

Harry swiftly turned to face the wall to hide his throbbing member, his naked backside on display instead.

"Over the desk!" Alecto instructed him from the back of the room.

Harry bent over, prostrating himself.

"All right, Filch, show us how it's done so we can move on to more effective magical discipline," Alecto was actually beginning to look bored.

Argus snatched the tawse and approached his quivering victim.

"Well then, Potter. It's about time. You're about to find out what happens to naughty boys who don't follow the rules."

Harry clenched his buttocks. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was in his late thirties, for crying out loud. He was beginning to regret coming back. At least by staying away he could have kept his dignity.

At the precise moment Filch made contact with Potter's uncovered arse, creating a resounding smacking noise, Severus burst into the classroom.

It was an arresting sight. Potter in the nude, about to be whipped. Snape had imagined hundreds of horrific scenarios taking place in this classroom, but he never thought Alecto Carrow would join forces with Filch. Now what was he supposed to do? Anger boiled inside him at Potter for having put him in such an impracticable situation. Lust was more of an afterthought, but nevertheless present as Argus asked him if he would like to partake in Harry's old-school punishment.

"I might indulge in a stroke or two," Severus said silkily.

Harry hardened abruptly at the sound of Snape's voice. If Severus hit him, it might send him over the edge. He didn't want that. Well, he did want that. If he were to be honest, that's what he had come for. But he didn't want it to happen there, in front of everybody else! It could ruin him. It could ruin them both.

"No please," he spoke up in a small voice, "Please don't."

"Please don't, what, Potter?"

"Please don't smack me, sir," Harry said hoarsely, struggling to keep it all in, "I don't know if I'll be able to take it."

Misunderstanding him, Severus very nearly guffawed. Unable to contain himself, Draco laughed out loud, clearly enjoying himself.

"Stupid boy! You come back to this school and don't expect to walk away a little battered and bruised, let alone alive?"

With that, Snape took the cane and whacked Harry hard. The seventh-year cried out in excruciating pain as his erection smashed into the side of the oak desk. It took all his strength to keep himself from cuming right there and then.

Thinking that he had caused some critical injury to Potter, Severus was horrified with himself.

"EVERYBODY, OUT! NOW!" he bellowed, "Staff and students."

"But headmaster!" Argus protested.

"Thank you, Filch. The rest of Potter's punishment will be doled out in private. NOW LEAVE BEFORE I LOSE MY TEMPER."

The silence was deafening in the moments that followed when it was just Snape and Harry left in the room. Then, suddenly, Severus saw it: the stream of milky white ejaculate trickling down Potter's bare leg. After that, it just kept coming. Yellow, now. Oh, the horror. What had he done?

Profoundly embarrassed, Harry started to sob.

"Please do-" he began brokenly as Snape started to untie his arms and legs.

"Please don-" he tried again as Snape cast a healing and cleaning charm over his shaky limbs.

"Please don't," he continued to cry as Snape helped him back into his robes.

Harry completely broke down. He couldn't believe what had just happened. This wasn't how he had pictured his first intimate encounter with his former Potions Master. This was absolutely horrible. Maybe some fantasies were better when they weren't acted out. Maybe some loves were better left unrequited. Maybe there were some times and places that should never be gone back to.

"I promise I won't strike you, Potter. Not ever again," Severus said gravely.

"Please don't expel me," Harry expanded tearfully, "Hogwarts is my home. I'm sorry I came back. I just had to!"

"I have not," Snape began stoically, "I have not been very good to you, Potter. You would be better off elsewhere."

"But you're the only one who understands."

"You're mistaken. I understand nothing about you, Potter. Stop babbling. You're being ridiculous."

"I know," Harry whispered dejectedly, looking at the floor, "I'm sorry, I…"

"Silence."

Suddenly, Harry felt warm arms wrap around his small shoulders and his tortured head being pressed against a strong, wide chest. An orgasm might have been what he had come for, but this embrace had been what he truly needed.

Severus had no clue why he was doing it, why he was hugging the Boy-Who-Lived, but he felt deep down that it needed to be done. Like it had been a long time coming. In reality, it had been longer than he ever could have imagined.

Harry sighed contentedly, nuzzling deeper.

"Is that a wand in your pocket, Professor Snape, or are you just as happy to see me as I am to see you?"