"Harry?"
Harry groaned, and buried his head further into the pillow. "Harry!"
Whatever it was, Ron could sort it out alone, Harry thought dimly, and tried to turn around. Then he realized he was held in place and couldn't.
"Harry!" Ron sounded downright alarmed now. Whatever it was, Harry thought grimly as he surfaced from his sleep, it better be good. He opened his eyes and stared at the wrong side of the room. There was a bang and he started. Next to him, the still body erupted into action, the restraints around Harry disappearing as Severus jumped, hand already groping for his wand. He glanced at the door. Ron stood halfway in the bedroom, and as Harry watched, his face turned from normal to pale to beet red. His mouth hung open as Severus finally pointed a wand at him.
"Weasley!" Snape thundered, eyes shooting sparks with fury. Ron quailed and started stuttering. Harry realized they were both naked and reflexively pulled up the covers.
"Out!" Ron fled, slamming the door behind him in terror. Snape lowered his wand and was breathing heavily, his hair in complete disarray. Harry pulled the covers even higher.
"I was supposed to go back to Grimmauld Place last night." Guilt pooled in his stomach, then Harry remembered exactly why he hadn't gone back. Heat crept up his face and neck and he shot a covert glance at Severus. Snape was still glaring at the door, exceptionally sour-faced. Harry watched as struggled out of bed, noticing red lines on Snape's back. His blush intensified when Harry realised they were scratch marks, and he had put them there. Without another backward glance, Snape strode towards the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Harry exhaled and flopped back onto the bed.
Holy shit.
He stared at the canopy. The sheets around him still smelled like sweat and musk. He had had sex with Snape. He had given Snape a god-damn blowjob. And Snape had sucked him off, as well. And they had danced and the feast and they had kissed and it had felt so good and the skin around Snape's eyes had crinkled so beautifully when he smiled at Harry and-
Are you alright?
Harry jerked, ripped from his carousel of thoughts. Leila was sitting on his bedside table, the end of her tail flicking to and fro in concern.
"I'm- not sure," Harry admitted. Oh God, and Ron had caught them in bed! So stupid, he had completely forgotten he had supposed to return-
Leila's tongue flicked out and tasted the air. Why are you upset?
"We had sex," Harry said bluntly. Well, not technically, but now was not the time for splitting hairs!
I noticed. Leila's voice sounded amused, in a dry sort of way. You humans are very messy creatures. Harry swore he could see her snout crinkle in disgust as she tasted the air again.
"Thanks," he answered sarcastically.
What's the problem then? You've wanted each other for ages. I was waiting for it to happen.
"We-" Harry paused. There was no arguing with a snake who claimed to smell the pheromones in the air. If she said they had smelled of lust, then they had smelled of lust.
"Maybe I did," he admitted. "But- I don't think he did. We both had quite a lot to drink yesterday."
Nonsense! Leila hissed derisively. He wanted you as much as you wanted him!
"Fine!" Harry shot back, a ugly feeling in his chest. "So he thought I'm hot and shaggable! But I-" He stopped, something inside his chest twisting.
Yes? Leila prompted him.
"I've got to tell the Weasley's I'm fine." Harry stood abruptly, striding to the closet. He flung on some spare clothes, wincing as the rubbed against tender spots. He would shower at Grimmauld Place. He scooped Leila up and headed for the fireplace.
As he stumbled into the sitting room, Mrs Weasley rose in surprise from the couch.
"Harry, dear!" She helped Harry brush soot of his robes. "There you are, we were worried about you!" Behind her, Harry saw Ron, rising awkwardly, his face red.
"Er, sorry," Harry said, at loss at what to say. "We, I mean, it was really late last night and-"
To his utter mortification, a faint pink blush covered Molly Weasley's cheeks. "Yes, I'm sure, the two of you must have been very tired-" Her voice faded and she avoided looking him in the eye, brushing his robe again. He threw an accusing look at Ron, who shook his head forcefully and jerked his head towards the hallway.
Harry followed him out. "I didn't tell her!" Ron exploded as soon as his bedroom door shut behind them. "I swear, I just said you were having a lie in, and she must have figured it out, I dunno, but I swear, Harry, I didn't tell her you and Snape-" Ron turned crimson again, ears and all.
Harry slopped down on Ron's bed, cradling his head in his hands. He noticed he could still smell Snape on himself and quickly moved the hand from his face to his hair.
"Harry?" Ron asked timidly and Harry felt the bed dip beside him. "Are you alright?"
Harry shook his head in silence, not really knowing how to explain. His skin was still tender. As though Snape's hands had left some kind of awareness behind, of what it felt to have him caress him, kiss him-
"Harry? Did Snape- Did he do something you didn't want?"
"No!" Harry snapped out of it, gazing at Ron in horror. "Gods, Ron, no! Nothing like that!"
"Okay! Alright, just checking!" Ron held up his hands in apology and Harry resumed staring at the floor between his feet.
"So..." Ron sounded timid, as though unsure how to proceed. "Why are you upset?"
Harry shrugged.
"I mean, you shagged, right? That's it, just a shag?"
Harry's hand clenched in his own hair. Somehow, the pain helped the bitterness in his throat.
"Yeah," Harry said flatly. "Right, just a shag. That's it."
Ron stayed silent for a moment and Harry swallowed convulsively, willing the block in his throat to go away. They sat there in silence, fidgeting from time to time. Leila stirred in his robes.
"Harry?" Ron finally broke the silence. Harry tilted his head lightly.
"It wasn't just a shag, right?"
Harry shook his head in silence and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Okay. Cool." Harry could all but hear the gears in Ron's head turning. Normally, Hermione handled this kind of stuff between them.
"Uhm, you want to talk about it?" Ron sounded so unwilling that Harry snorted a laugh.
"No, thanks, Ron," he said, finally looking at his friend. Ron looked relieved.
"I'm just gonna grab a shower. Meet you downstairs, alright?" Ron nodded and stood up. He clapped Harry on the shoulder, then hurried from the room.
Snape opened the door and strode into the bedroom, glare in place and head held high. It was empty, the bed still ruffled and unmade. He stuck his head out into the sitting room, listening. Silence. He let his shoulders slump and his scowl fade. So Harry had already left.
Severus stalked over to the armchairs and slumped down, staring at the embers.
Last night- last night had been a mistake. Oh, it had been wonderful, bitterly so, and left him craving more. Snape knew it wouldn't turn out to his benefit. Harry was too young to know what he desired in life. The memory of Harry's husky voice whispering Want you into his ear made the ache in his chest throb. The boy probably didn't even know if he was gay, for Merlin's sake!
A quick fuck on the side, he could deal with. Comfort from a comrade in arms, an associate in this bloody war, that was acceptable. But this thing with Harry, his unnatural obsession with the boy- the man- No. Severus was too involved and he knew it. This was domestic and complicated. Severus wondered wherever it was too early in the day to have a drink.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Ah, Severus!" Dumbledore strode cheerfully into the quarters, not awaiting a reply. Severus closed his eyes and groaned silently.
"Headmaster."
"Good to see you up so early. I wasn't sure when you came home last night. I myself retired quite early. After all, I am not as young as I once was." Severus shot him a scowl. Of course then man had to be smiling indulgently at him.
"No doubt you enjoyed the show previous to your departure." Severus was in no mood to beat around the bush.
"Why, yes, the musicians this year were marvellous, were they not? Quite a jig they gave us last night." Severus snorted and looked accusingly at the Headmaster, who had the nerve to wink at him.
"Of course, if you are referring to the rather- ah, passionate expressions of affection between Harry and yourself-"
"Yes," Severus curtly interrupted him and he would be damned if he blushed now!
"Ah, well, yes, I agree that your actions might have caused quite a spectacle," Dumbledore seemed intent on retaining his good mood.
"At this point, it can only serve our cause," Snape remarked, trying to keep his voice level and bland. He was quite proud when he succeeded.
"Very true, very true," Dumbledore happily lit the fire, engulfing them both in warmth. "So is Harry still sleeping in?"
Severus fidgeted. "No, he has returned to Grimmauld Place. Mr Weasley was sent to retrieve him this morning when Potter failed to return last night." Not that he had been intent on sending him away.
"Oh, dear me," Dumbledore chuckled. "I hope Mr Weasley didn't get more than he bargained for."
"Excuse me?" Severus felt his back go rigid as he glared at his employer, who had the cheek to actually wink at him again.
"Come now, Severus, from the look of Harry's face last night I hardly believe he would have let turn him down."
Severus gaped at Dumbledore. This invasion of his privacy was unparalleled and he could feel his indignation temporarily clog his airways.
"Not that you seemed all too disinclined," Dumbledore innocently continued. Severus choked around his rage and finally found his voice.
"Are you asking for details?" He spat, clenching his hands around the armrests. "Or is it enough for you to know that Potter and I engaged in sexual acts last night?" He felt the heat of anger rise on his face. Bad enough that it had happened in the first place, now he had to let himself be ridiculed about it!
"Dear boy, I hardly think that was a secret," Dumbledore had the nerve to chuckle again. "You are, after all, a married couple."
"Need I remind you, Albus, that this whole marriage is a sham, devised solely for my protection,"Severus hissed. "I refuse to pay back my debt in sexual favours."
"Severus!" The Headmaster looked shocked at the very suggestion. "Do you honestly believe that was Harry's motivation? After spending so much time with him, I honestly hoped you might have dropped some of your assumptions. Am I that mistaken?"
Snape clenched his jaw and glared at the fireplace. He wanted to say 'yes', but somehow, the word would not honestly make it's way past his lips.
"You realize then, of course, that Harry's actions towards you root solely from his affections to you?" Dumbledore asked quietly, blue eyes surveying him over the rims of his spectacles.
"Why are you here, Albus?" Maybe the old man would leave him in peace if he finished his business here.
"To prevent you from doing something foolish, of course," Dumbledore answered promptly, the infuriating smile back again. "And to ask you to accompany me to breakfast. Would you like to join me?"
Snape grunted, but regretfully couldn't think of a good enough reason to refuse the Headmaster. Except that he resented his interference with his private life and wanted some solace, but who counted that?
"Truly, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, his tone sombre again. "Please, do not do Harry the injustice of accusing him wrongly. I will only hurt you both."
Severus decided not to dignify that plea with a comment.
Dinner was an awkward affair, but Harry was grateful that no one broached the subject of Snape and him. Ron went out of his way to engage Harry in inconsequential chatter and Harry let himself be roped in quite willingly. Hermione arrived that evening, her nose peeling from the alpine sun. She hugged Harry first, then lingered in Ron's embrace. Harry excused himself and left the two to themselves. Also, he had no desire to explain what had happened to Hermione, leaving that grateful task to Ron.
Harry was sitting in front of the fireplace, reading a book he had borrowed from Snape's personal library when they finally emerged again. One glance at Hermione's pink, yet calculating face told Harry Ron had already filled her in.
He smiled crookedly at his friends as they sat themselves opposite him on the couch.
"How was your holiday, Harry?" She fidgeted nervously and Harry simply looked at her.
"Fine." Hermione nodded, glancing at Ron sideways.
"I've brought you my notes-" She produced a pack of parchments. "I've talked to Mr Weasley, he chatted up one of the witches at the Ministry- about your interview." She shoved the stack at Harry, who reluctantly put his book away.
All of the parchment was filled with Hermione's neat little handwriting. He rifled through them briefly. He was surprised to see that he could answer a fair few without problems- Snape's favourite food, drink, toothbrush colour, side of the bed he slept on- they were living together, after all.
"His favourite beverage?" Harry glanced up at Ron and Hermione. "No idea. Scotch, maybe? Or pumpkin juice?"
Ron looked doubtful. "I can't imagine Snape drinking something harmless as pumpkin juice. Black tea, maybe? Bitter, without sugar or milk." Hermione shot him a disapproving look before turning to Harry.
"Well, guessing is no use, is it? The interview is in two days, you have to get the answers straight till then! Go and ask him, Harry!" She gestured at the fireplace.
"No!" Harry said indignantly. "I'm not going back there!"
She shot him an exasperated look. "Harry, you live there."
"It's the holidays!"
"Harry, I know you and Professor Snape-" she turned pink again and hastily continued, "But you can't avoid going back there for ever!"
"No, but I can today!"
"Harry-"
"Let it go, Hermione," Ron interrupted, putting a placating hand on her thigh. Harry zeroed in on the hand. Severus had placed his hand on Harry's thigh yesterday-
"Harry will go tomorrow, right, Harry? Let them cool down today." Hearing Ron being so reasonable was certainly a change and caused both Harry and Hermione to stare at him until he started fidgeting.
"What?"
"When did you grow up all of a sudden?" Hermione asked abruptly, obviously put off.
Ron shrugged and blushed slightly. "It's all in the book," he mumbled, and Harry remembered seeing a certain book lying around in Ron's room.
"What book?" Hermione snapped. "Oh, that reminds me- Harry, have you read my Christmas present yet?"
Harry felt his neck heat up. "Yeah, yeah, I have." Now, Hermione was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"Er-" Harry felt his face heat up, as well. "It's- it's interesting. Thanks," he added hastily.
"Leave the questions, Harry," Ron requested, and pulled him up. "Let's go grab something to eat, Mum's baking muffins."
"I hate Potions," Ron groused, shoving his parchment aside in frustration. "Once I'm an auror, I'll just stock up my bathroom cabinet with antidotes and bezoars, so I won't have to brew a single one of these!" He waved his hands over the books and lists of antidotes they were working with.
"You'll better be a rich auror then," Hermione said mildly, turning another page. Her essay was almost finished and Harry stole a hopeful look at it. "These potions are really expensive."
"I'll work hard," Ron grumbled, rubbing his eyes. Hermione snorted derisively.
"I'll believe that when I see it!"
Harry turned a page, his eyes burning. None of this made sense- while ashwinder scales seemed to be a perfectly good ingredient in an antidote for digestive cramping, it seemed to prove lethal in asthmatic potions, despite the ingredients being all but similar. Obviously, there had to be a difference, but for the love of him Harry couldn't figure out what.
"Hermione-" Harry started, but the fire interrupted his question. It's flames flared green and spit out a black figure. Snape brushed the soot of his robes while Harry gaped.
"Professor Snape!" Hermione squealed and Ron turned brick red.
"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger." Snape nodded curtly at them, then turned to Harry. "Potter." Harry insides churned.
"Hello."
Snape glanced at their work and sneered. "The annual antidote essay, I see."
"You know what this is about?" Ron asked and Snape turned his derisive expression on him.
"Professor Slughorn has taken over my curriculum. Naturally I know what you assignment is about."
For a moment, Ron looked hopeful. "Well, maybe you could-"
"If you think for one moment, Weasley, that would aid your diminutive intellect in the task of avoiding further-"
"I'll make myself some tea." Harry stood up abruptly and fled into the kitchen. He tried very hard not listen to the voices still sounding from the sitting room and fiddled with the kettle. As he was waiting for the water to boil, he heard footsteps behind him. He threw a glance over his shoulder and saw Snape approaching.
"Would you like some tea?" For a moment, Harry thought Snape would belittle him, but then he visibly bit something back. "Yes, please."
Harry nodded and infused the tea. He put both cups on the table and sat down, looking expectantly at Snape. Only to find he couldn't hold his gaze and looked at his tea.
He heard Snape sit down opposite him and clear his throat uneasily. There was a moment of silence.
"Potter-"
Harry felt a surge of anger. "Oh, Potter, am I?" He glared at Snape, who bared his teeth back at him. But then, to Harry's surprise, he checked himself and the snarl faded.
"Harry." He took a deep breath, which seemed to calm him as much as Harry. "Concerning last night- I want to make sure you understand I will not demand anything of you."
Harry stared, caught off guard. "What?" Then he blinked. "Right. That's not- I wasn't thinking you would."
Snape nodded, expression uncharacteristically uneasy, but at least they were looking at each other now.
"Would you like to, though?" Harry blurted out and immediately blushed.
Snape stared at him, incredulous anger glittering in his eyes. "I am not a toy to be used for your amusement, Potter," Severus growled, baring his teeth again. "If you can't contain your carnal needs, then I'm afraid you will have to satisfy yourself elsewhere." He spit the words in Harry's face, who recoiled.
"That's not what I meant!" Harry hissed back. "What do you think I- You're- What about the Ball yesterday?"
"What about it?," Snape said coolly, his face wiped blank.
"That was- something." Harry said forcefully, painfully aware of how inadequate his words were. He ached to simply say something that mattered. "That meant something. That was real, you twit!"
Belatedly, he thought insulting Snape might not have been the smartest move he had ever made. Indeed, Snape's face was slowly acquiring a pink tinge.
"Sorry," Harry said quickly. "That didn't come out right." Snape still looked at the verge of exploding. "What I'm trying to say is- I'm not- playing with you or anything. I just- I like you," Harry lamely told the table.
There. He had said it. Harry raised his head. Severus was watching with suspicion on his face. After a moment of studying Harry's features, the suspicion made way for wary confusion and something akin to resignation.
"I am not a toy, Potter."
Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "I know that. Believe me, I'm really not messing around with you. At least, I don't want to. I'm not that stupid."
Snape continued glaring at him. Quickly, Harry said, "I really don't get the potions assignment, by the way. What's so special about ashwinder scales?"
Harry fidgeted with his robes, pulling his collar loose. Mrs Weasley had insisted he wore his best robes and Harry gave in. He was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the atrium of the Office of Marital Affairs. It was a simple sitting space, not unlike the waiting room in a muggle doctor's office he had visited with his aunt. Next to him, Severus was sitting on another uncomfortable chair. Severus huffed irritably and roughly yanked at Harry's collar to straighten it. Harry shot him a dark look. Snape sneered back. So far, so normal.
"Mr Potter," a witch poked her head out, looking around for him. Harry hastily stood, flattening his hair nervously. "Yeah?"
The witch smiled smiled reassuringly at him. "In here, please." Harry looked at Snape, who sent him a twisted smile which made Harry think he looked ill, though it was probably meant to be reassuring. Harry returned the smile faintly.
The Ministry lady was about Mr Weasley's age and had plain brown hair wound in a neat bound. She had a general air of quietness that made Harry inclined to think that if she didn't say anything, one might even forget she's there.
The witch gestured to Harry to sit on a wooden chair across from her desk, which was littered with parchment and the occasional owl feather. She smiled reassuringly and Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Umbridge.
"Hello Mr Potter, my name is Lisa Smithens. I'm an employee of the Office for Marital Affairs, OMA for short. I'll be asking you a few questions today regarding your union. Do you know why you're here?"
Harry kept his jaw from falling open with difficulty. Then he realised he was supposed to answer. "Because some people don't believe my marriage is real?" He asked, trying not to sound grouchy.
"Yes, there have been some suspicions regarding the validity of your marriage. Can you tell me something about how you two met?"
"Well, we saw each other first when I came to Hogwarts," Harry said dryly, "but I only started fancying him about a year ago, in my fifth year."
"Is that when you started you relationship?"
"No, I had a crush on him for a really long time, months. We only started seeing each other like that after last term ended."
"Can you tell me the date?"
"Uh-" Harry racked his brain for the time-frame he and Severus had constructed. "It was the end of July, I think."
"Mhm-" The witch made a mark on her piece of parchment. "What wood is your husbands wand made of?"
"Ebony."
"Does he sleep on the left or the right side of the bed?"
"The left."
"What time does he get up in the mornings?"
"Er- we get up together, actually. So, about half past six."
"Who showers first in the morning?"
Harry blushed. "He showers in the evening. I shower in the morning."
"What brand is his shampoo?" For a moment, Harry wondered wherever the witch had attended Hogwarts at some point and was trying to make a point.
"He uses Fellowsea's, I think." The witch shot him a dubious look. "Have you had relations before your marriage?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"Since the beginning of the summer holidays."
"Does your husband have any allergies?"
"Yes. He can't eat nuts."
"Regarding your financial issues, have any changes been made?" She looked at him over the top of her parchment.
"Er- yeah. I mean, our Gringotts vaults have been merged."
"So you both have full access to your spouses gold?"
"Yes." Another mark on the sheet. Harry twitched uncomfortably. He had not been aware of that fact until Snape had kindly informed him.
"Can you validate this statement?"
"Prove it, you mean?" The witch nodded. "Yes, Severus has the documents with him. Shall I get-"
"No, no, that's alright, I'll talk to him in a minute."
After a few more mundane questions, the witch rifled through her papers and told Harry kindly to wait outside. As he passed a scowling Snape in the doorway, he smiled at him and let their hands brush. Snape stopped and looked down at him, his features softening. A sharp clearing of the throat from the Ministry lady made Harry break eye contact and shuffle out, relieved his part was over. After all, if anyone was going to bollocks this up, it would have been him. Snape had spent his adulthood deceiving greater wizards than this witch would ever be. Harry settled down in one of the chairs, which seemed much more comfortable all of the sudden.
The door opened once more, after quite a short time, too, Harry thought. A disgruntled looking Severus emerged, the witch trailing behind him, visibly flustered. Harry stood and approached Severus. Hoping he wouldn't get hexed for this, he leaned up and aimed a light kiss at Severus' lips. To his immense relief, Severus leaned down reflexively and responded in kind. The witch cleared her throat pointedly.
"Everything seems in order," she simpered, avoiding Snape's glare. "I will inform my superiors of my evaluation. I wish you both a wonderful life." She disappeared into her office, door falling closed behind her.
Harry chuckled. "What did you do to her?"
Snape snorted, and pulled him away. "Nothing lethal." Snape's grip on his arm shifted, slid lower and suddenly, he was clutching Harry's palm. Harry's skin tingled, so he twitched his hand and their fingers entwined, holding firmly. Harry smiled; there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"Harry!" Mr Weasley had volunteered to escort them back to the gates of Hogwarts. He bounded towards them with a gait that reminded Harry strongly of Ron. He saw his eyes flicker to their joined hands and back up. "How did it go?"
"Fine," Harry said, relief settling in. It was over, no more balls, no more interrogations- they were going to leave them alone. Mr Weasley clapped him on the shoulder.
"Good, good, let's get you back to school, then."
When they appeared in front of the school gates, they were greeted by Hagrid, who escorted them back to the castle. Taking a silent, deep breath, Harry reached for Snape's hand again.
"Glad that went well," he said quietly, while Hagrid happily described the creatures he was currently breeding. From the sound of it, they were a cross-breed between rats and bowtruckles. Harry didn't even want to imagine the logistics of rats on sticks.
"I would have thought you would be glad to be rid of me," Snape answered, equally low. Harry squeezed his fingers in a silent answer. "They won't get you," he vowed, a fierce protectiveness coursing through him. He consciously didn't say that Snape belonged to him.
Yet when Snape looked down at him and smirked, he had the feeling he knew what he was thinking, anyway. They said goodbye to Hagrid in the Entrance Hall (well, at least Harry did) and traipsed up the castle in silence. It was still two days until the first students would be arriving, and only a handful had stayed behind. They passed one lonely Hufflepuff fourth-year, who took one look at their joined hands and paled. Snape sneered at her, and she fled. Harry sighed. It would be all over the school the moment the other students arrived.
Harry's trunk had already arrived, Leila coiled atop of it. Harry greeted her warmly and she wound herself around his neck, weaving her head in his hair in a caress.
"I'll up to the Owlery for a bit. Visit Hedwig," Harry told Snape, after he unpacked his stuff. Snape was sitting in his office, working. He looked up as Harry approached him. "Watch out for Malfoy," Severus warned him, scowling. "He's lurking about the castle."
Harry nodded. Snape looked at him for a moment longer and Harry hesitated. He moved closer nonchalantly. Severus' gaze flickered, but he kept looking at Harry, his quill loose in his fingers. Harry raised his hand and gently traced Snape's cheekbone with his fingertips. He felt Snape's breath catch. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to Severus' lips. The angle was different, but when Snape grabbed his head gently and adjusted it, it was perfect. Harry traced the tip of his tongue along Snape's bottom lip and was rewarded with a breathy sigh. Harry was flooded with joy- there wasn't an inch of him that wasn't in awe of the fact that he was being kissed by the man he loved. The kiss deepened until Harry pulled away slowly. He smiled down at Severus, positive that there was no way Severus could misread his expression. Severus, however, had a certain glazed look upon him as he licked his lips. Harry felt his prick grow warm.
"I'll-" his voice was weak and breathless. Harry quickly cleared his throat, embarrassed. "I'll see you at dinner, then."
Severus' face lost it's dreamy expression. "Don't get lost," he advised dryly, turning back to his notes. Harry smiled at the back of his head, and determinedly kept the skip out of his walk as he exited the office.
He made it all the around the corner before he let out a whoop and actually jumped a foot into the air. Leila hissed in surprise as he broke out into a run, taking three stairs at once. His cheeks were already aching, but he couldn't stop smiling. Any moment now, he would burst into song. As he entered the musty silence of the Owlery, Harry thought that any Patronus he conjured now could take down all the dementors of Azkaban and never falter. Because Severus Snape liked him.
The door shut behind Harry and Snape let his head fall in his hands. He felt them shake. He took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat, the fast staccato which pulsed against his eardrum.
The boy, the man- Harry. He was doomed, doomed now. Just as he had been many years ago, when he first saw little Lily on the swing- he was had been doomed to be her friend till the end, even after she hadn't been his any more. And even now, if there was an afterlife, the first thing he would do was fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.
And now- behind those green eyes, so alike hers, but so different- was a man, barely yet an adult, who held the whole of Severus' bare, beating, bleeding heart in his small hands.
Of course, he was also the centre, the very vortex of this bloody damned war. The war which had taken everyone he had ever loved from him. So it was only natural that the boy he was to fall in love with was in the eye of a storm centred around him. The Dark Lord himself wanted to kill Harry. Despair gripped Severus. How the boy had survived so far defied any kind of logic- and while Severus would lay down his own life without a second thought, he was woefully conscious about of how little use that would be.
And Dumbledore insisted his duty lie elsewhere. Where then, if not with that dratted boy? The students and the school, indeed.
He traced his lips absently with his quill, the sensitised flesh tingling deliciously. They would keep on fighting. Fight till the end, play this dangerous game until their side won or they died. He would stand by Harry even if it killed him. And in the meantime- there were more earthly pleasures to look forward to.
Hedwig clicked her beak disapprovingly at Leila when she saw her, her amber eyes narrowed in jealousy. Harry stroked her feathered head soothingly. He offered her an owl treat, which mollified her. Grinning like a maniac, he told her all about his stay at the Burrow, talking in a low voice, enjoying the feel of the simple of his second friend ever.
He sat on the window ledge, huddled in his cloak, and gazed out onto the lake. The freezing rain that was pelting down was making him already dread the next Quidditch practices. When the sky darkened even further, Harry realized it was probably high time for dinner. He hurriedly said goodbye to Hedwig and started the long trek to the Great Hall. The House tables had been forsaken in favour of a single, long one, at which the rest of the staff and students students were seated. Harry slipped in one of the remaining seats. He tried to covertly look at Severus, who was ignoring him. He was seemingly occupied with his pumpkin soup and aiming the occasional comment at Professor McGonagall, who sat on his right. Harry tried catching his eye, but was studiously ignored. He huffed into his stew and finished quickly. If that stubborn git wanted to be all proper in public, fine. He ripped a slice of bread in two before dunking it in his soup.
Harry left as soon as he was finished, smiling at Professor Flitwick. Snape looked at him and Harry gave him a nod, too. Severus dipped his head a fraction of an inch and Harry almost smiled. He left for their rooms, a plan forming in his head. Hopefully, Snape would be detained at dinner- Harry had some reading to do.
He was just taking a turn down the second floor- corridor which would take him to the right staircase, when he collided with someone who was hurrying in the opposite direction. He humphed in surprise and staggered backwards, only to find himself face to face with Malfoy. Immediately, his hand jumped to his wand. Malfoy glared at him, eyes on his hand. "Watch where you're going, Potter!"
Harry glared at him. "Why aren't you at dinner?"
Malfoy's smile turned haughty, though Harry thought it had quite the strained quality to it. "How is that any of your business, scarhead? Think you and the Dumble-fool own the castle?"
"At least I don't look like a walking corpse," Harry retorted. It was true- Malfoy was even paler than usual, the bags under his eyes prominent and dark. Even his hair, while still sleeked back, was less orderly than usual. "What's the matter, too scared at night to get enough beauty sleep? Or have you finally figured out joining Voldemort might not have been the best idea after all?"
Malfoy edged around him and Harry kept his back to the wall. "You will regret the day that filthy mudblood mother of yours ever saved you, Potter."
Harry snarled back. "We'll see about that, ferret."
With a rude gesture in Harry's direction, Malfoy disappeared around the corner. Harry listened to his receding footsteps before loosening his grip on his wand. He took a deep breath before continuing his way to their rooms. He was halfway there before he noticed that Malfoy had evaded his original question.
Harry was sitting at his desk, trying to memorise a particular paragraph when he heard the office door open. But still, more than an hour passed before he closed and put Hermione's Christmas gift aside, just as Snape walked through the second door.
"I had a run-in with Malfoy," Harry informed Snape from the desk, watching him coax the flames in the hearth higher. Severus' gaze immediately turned to Harry, who knew he was checking for injuries. "Do you know what he's up to?"
Snape took the poker in his hand and jabbed at a burning log. "What did he say to you?"
"Oh, the usual," Harry said in airy tone. "Threats and insults. It was him, on Halloween, you know that, right?"
"I suspect as much, yes," Severus said, straightening up and leaning against his armchair.
"Then you know he's up to something!" Harry said accusingly. He, Ron and Hermione had been right- and yet Malfoy was still here! "Why hasn't he been expelled yet?"
"Because the Headmaster wishes not to," Snape said evenly.
"But why?"
Harry was sick of this- everybody knew more than he did, yet it was him the wizarding world seemed to rely on to defeat Voldemort. Of course, no one had a practical suggestion of how exactly he should do that. Snape gaze him a long, searching look, before moving closer. He perched himself on the top of Harry's desk, who was momentarily distracted by the robes bunching around Severus' backside.
"This summer, shortly before my exposure, Draco has been given- a task, by the Dark Lord."
"What task?" Harry leaned forward eagerly.
"To kill the Headmaster."
"What? Kill Dumbledore?" Harry gaped. The idea itself was ludicrous, even in Dumbledore's weakened state.
"Yes. Thus the Halloween fiasco, though I suspect Draco had help with that."
"But- but- that's ridiculous! As if Malfoy ever could, with or without help! And why doesn't Dumbledore just chuck him out?"
"Professor Dumbledore," Snape barked at him, scowling. Harry barely contained the urge to roll his eyes at the ceiling. "And you are correct. Mr Malfoy is not expected to succeed. The Dark Lord is most displeased with Lucius Malfoy's performance at the Ministry last summer."
Harry frowned for a moment. Then it hit him. "He wants Malfoy to fail? And then punish him for it?" Severus clapped his hands slowly. "Very good, Potter. Nice to see that those failed attempts at Occlumency have at least educated you of the workings of the Dark Lord's mind."
Harry felt himself blush with furious embarrassment as he remembered those failed lessons. Guilt gnawed unpleasantly at his stomach. "So that's why Dumbledore- Professor Dumbledore-" he enunciated mockingly, "Won't expel him? Because Voldemort will kill him if he does?"
"Two correct assumptions in the span of ten minutes. Most impressive."
"Shut it, will you," Harry snapped, his neck furiously red again. He looked at his feet, mulling over this new information. "Do you know where Malfoy is always going to?"
Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean, Potter? Mr Malfoy has not been leaving the grounds unsupervised."
Unwilling to reveal his knowledge about the Marauder's Map and Malfoy's frequent absence from it, Harry opted for a half-truth. "I never see him around anymore, is all."
Severus' expression hadn't softened, so Harry hurriedly stood up. "I'm going to turn in." He hastily fled from the room.
When he emerged, freshly showered, deliberately only clad in pyjama bottoms, Snape was not yet in the bedroom. Harry grabbed a book from his nightstand, determined to wait up.
When Snape finally entered the bedroom, Harry pretended to keep on reading, yet his eyes were fixed on one spot of the page, ears straining to listen to all the sounds of Severus getting ready for bed. When bathroom door closed and the shower sounded, Harry put his book down and listened, anticipation coiling in his stomach. He thought again of the instructions in the book Hermione had given him. While he was fairly sure he could make sex enjoyable for a girl, he had only his own instincts to rely on when it came to men. Surely, a few pointers would not go amiss, especially if one had such a much more experienced lover. Though, of course, the only way to gain more hands-on experience was to practice. A lot. He felt a pleasant tensing in his belly and shifted. The shower stopped.
Severus emerged from the bathroom and Harry was surprised to see that he, too, was wearing only shorts. He let his gaze trail over Snape's bare thorax, over his flat belly and his slightly broader chest. When he reached Severus' face, he tried to smile invitingly.
Severus' expression softened slightly, then he cautiously approached the bed. "Harry," he said slowly, pointedly looking at Harry's face. Harry felt a twinge of worry at his serious tone. "I want to make sure that you understand I do not wish to pressure you into anything." He held up a hand as Harry opened his mouth in indignation. "I not want you to feel obligated to- be intimate with me. If you would prefer to never mention the incident on New Year's Eve again, I won't hold it against you."
"I want to" Harry said firmly, annoyed. "Do you?" He hadn't anticipated this much talking, before. Afterwards, perhaps.
The way Severus' eyes flickered down Harry's bare chest and lower body was answer enough. He leaned forwards and Snape slid fully onto the bed. They reached out and kissed. Harry felt his eyes shut as Severus' tongue flicked against his and the coiled tension in his belly unfurled, stretching deliciously and coursing through his whole body.
He lowered himself onto his bed and Severus trailed after him, steadying himself with a hand on his chest. Severus' hand was cold on his overheated skin, but it was warming quickly as it caressed his ribs, a thumb finding a nipple. Harry gave an appreciative purr- and Severus mouth left his. A lustful look later he busied himself with kissing Harry's neck and jawline. Harry closed his eyes, basking in the delightful sensations, his fingers stroking Severus' back, finger's trailing over the odd scar.
When Severus worked his way downwards, Harry watched in wonder as the dark-haired man kissed and licked at his nipple, his long fingers stroking Harry's skin. Joy filled his chest as he took in the focused expression on Severus' face, who was so very intent on giving him pleasure that he all but ignored his own. That wouldn't do. Harry slid his hands into the silky, wet strands and gently guided Snape back up, their mouths meeting again. The movement brought their chests together and Harry arched up into the heat the Potions Master was radiating. Severus hummed as Harry's mouth left his and instead moved towards his neck. When he trailed along his ear, however, Severus hissed and his whole body shuddered along Harry's. He felt Severus' erection hard and hot against his leg. He smiled as he gathered the hair out of the way and tongued Snape's ear gently, then lightly bit the shell. The resulting writhing seemed fully involuntary. Severus turned his head and caught Harry's mouth in a kiss again, just as Harry's wandering hands found Severus' bum and gave it a tentative squeeze through the cotton. Snape gave his lower lip an encouraging nip, so Harry slid his hands along the seam of the pants, his touch light and teasing. Only then did he slide them underneath, cupping Severus soft skin, covered in fine hair, so different from Ginny's. He massaged the buttocks and Severus slid onto him, his weight pushing Harry down into the mattress. Harry loved it, the feel of his lover constricting him, surrounding him. He groaned as Severus straightened up, straddling his hips and in effect bringing their groins closer together.
"Not to ruin the mood," Severus began, his eyes dark with lust and Harry was very conscious that he still had his hands cupped around Snape's arse, "but have you ever been with a man?"
Harry shook his head, giving the wonderful arse a light squeeze. "Only with girls. You're the first bloke," He said, willing himself not to blush. Snape nodded and Harry was grateful to see he was not put off. "Then you have never been-"
"No," Harry said quickly, and blushed despite his best efforts. "I mean, Ginny used to- er, finger me sometimes when she gave me a blowjob. It was nice, but we never did anything more. No toys or anything." He gulped. Snape smirked, but it looked just a shade off from a smile. He suddenly leaned back down, threading his hands into Harry's hair and turning his head.
"Well, Mr Potter," He breathed into Harry's ear, until it seemed there was nothing else in the world except the sound of Snape's voice and his hot breath against Harry's skin. "I am not feeling particularly patient tonight. I suggest I introduce you to the pleasure of bottoming on another occasion." He arched his arse into Harry's hands suggestively. "If your are up to the task," and then he ground down, pressing their groins together and Harry lifted up and fuck, this felt so good that it was only when Snape pulled back up again that Harry's brain registered what Snape had said.
"You, you want me to-" Harry gulped, the idea so erotic that his prick was painfully hard by now.
"Have I not been clear enough? Very well, Harry, let me say it outright: I want you to fuck me."
Harry groaned at those words, his blood finally boiling over and he shoved Snape sideways, rolling them around until Severus lay on his back, dangerously close to the edge of the bed. What followed was a frantic blur of licks, kisses, nips and rough bites as Harry worked his way downwards. Harry finally pulled Severus' trousers down, with eager help from the man himself, then took the head of Snape's cock into his mouth without preamble. Snape hissed again, that sharp sound Harry had come to associate with his pleasure and Harry sucked frantically, working more of the length down his throat. The book had said to relax his jaw and throat, yet his gag reflex still set in before he could take the whole of Severus. He continued bobbing his head up and down, loving the taste of Severus on his tongue, before he finally surfaced. Severus head was thrown back and he was panting, sweat glistening on his body. When Harry removed his mouth and continued teasing strokes with his hand, Severus' brain finally registered the change and he looked up, eyes wide and hair dishevelled. Such an wonderful, undignified picture, that Harry discretely rubbed his prick against the sheets.
"Do you- Should I make you come like this-" Harry underlined the sentence with a lick to Severus' slit, "Or would you rather come later?"
Snape gulped and blinked, obviously having trouble processing the question. "Later," he rasped out, his normally so smooth voice now rough with lust. "I'm not sure I can come twice this evening."
Harry nodded, and gave the prick a parting lick before he nuzzled his way downwards. Then, he took a moment to rearrange their positions- he parted Snape's legs and settled between them. As he lay down on his belly, his own prick grateful for the friction, he draped them over his arms, as he used to do with Ginny. This was very much different- Severus' leg were endless in comparison, towering over Harry. He felt small, but as he applied gently pressure, they lifted a bit, spreading Severus to Harry's hungry gaze. He caught sight of the tiny pucker for the first time. Severus' feet settled somewhere next to Harry's back.
Harry gave the smooth sac a lick, nibbling and sucking at Severus' testicles, while one of his hands massaged the flesh behind. According to the book, it was supposed to be pleasurable, though Harry hadn't had the chance to try it himself. Judging by the breathy gasps and moans from above, he was doing alright, though. He gave the straining prick another quick lick, which drew a surprised gasp from Severus. "Have you got any lubricant?"
There was a spell for that, too, but somehow Harry didn't feel comfortable using magic on his partner during sex. Disentangling his legs from around Harry, Snape rolled around clumsily and grabbed at his nightstand, rummaging in it drawer, then presenting Harry with a small glass jar, not unlike those they used for their Potion samples in class. Harry thought in fond exasperation that Severus probably brewed it himself.
Snape settled down again, though this time Harry hurriedly stuffed a pillow under Snape's hips. Another tip from the book. Snape raised an eyebrow at him and shifted. Harry stilled him with a hand and a quick kiss to the lips before he turned his attention southward again. He took a glob of lubricant and spread it across the crease, before massaging the puckered opening with his index finger.
"Good?" Harry asked, unwilling to take any chances. Severus nodded licked his lips. "Do it, Harry," he urged, his tone strained. Harry pushed and his finder slid into such a tight, wet heat that his prick twitched in sympathy. It was hot, and moist and soft and so much better than anything he had ever felt with Ginny. He moved his finger in and out experimentally, fascinated with the sight of his knuckles disappearing into Snape's body, which willingly took them. Thinking Severus was accommodating well, Harry added another. He probed upwards, deeper, until Snape hissed and said "There!" in a tone that indicated Harry had caught more than just the Snitch. Trying hard to memorize the angle, Harry continued stroking the prostate, watching in awe as Snape writhed on the bed, now pulling his legs to his chest, holding them with his hands, baring himself completely to Harry. When he finally added the third finger, Snape gasped. Harry stilled his movement, rubbing Snape's cock apologetically. When the pressure seemed to lessen, Harry began moving his fingers again, gently, watching Snape's face for any sign of pain.
"Enough," Severus barked out, his eyes finally opening. "I'm ready." Harry gulped, finally allowing himself to acknowledge his own need. With a hand still wet with lube, he touched his own erection and positioned it carefully.
"Angle up," Snape said, shifting his hips slightly and Harry obeyed. With a steadying breath and a reassuring look at Snape, he couldn't wait any longer and pushed. First nothing happened, then Snape twitched, Harry bore down stronger and suddenly, his cockhead had slipped in, moving past the first ring of muscles. Snape let out a throaty moan and Harry slowed, breathing heavily, all of his self-control focused on not coming, not plunging in, but moving very, very slowly, in, in, in, sliding down, his arms trembling on both sides of Severus' waist as he held himself and then there, he was in, buried deep inside Severus, his own balls touching the man's arse.
Harry looked Severus' in the eye and waited, while the man breathed heavily. "Been a while," he gasped finally, and Harry pressed a kiss against his sternum, shuddering as it caused his prick to move.
"Never done it before," he answered, his own voice hoarse and deep. "Alright?"
Snape took a deep breath, then exhaled, long and slow. The pressure clamping down on Harry's prick seemed to lessen slightly.
"Yes," Severus said, twitching, his endlessly long, pale legs wrapping themselves around Harry's waist. "Now move!"
Harry chuckled, then obeyed.
It was glorious and messy and his loins made obscene noises as his pelvis hit against Severus arse, while the speed of their thrusts increased. A firm grip on Severus' thighs, Harry at some point realized he was pulling Snape towards him with each thrust, angling until finally, he found Snape's prostrate. Harry concentrated on his goal to hit it as many times as possible to distract himself from the pressure building in his balls and not coming yet, just a little bit longer. "Severus," Harry gasped, speeding up once again, scrunching his eyes shut just after he saw Snape reach for his own prick. Harry slammed in, feeling himself shuddering inside Snape as orgasm claimed him. Some moments and frantic hand movements later, he heard Severus groan madly and the spasms around his twitching prick told him Snape had probably come, too.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and Snape stretched his legs, pulling Harry close to his chest. Harry lay there, boneless and unable to think.
"Uh," he said finally, realizing he was still sheathed inside Severus. He pulled his soft prick out easily, whereas Severus used a cleaning charm on them. Harry sprawled again, laying halfway on Snape's chest, who pulled him closer. Harry hummed his approval. The lights darkened, and Harry sighed contentedly. "Good," he finally mumbled into Severus neck. He felt Severus adam's apple bob as he answered. "Indeed." For some reason, it was the funniest answer Snape could have given him, so Harry started sniggering uncontrollably, his lax muscles twitching pathetically.
"What is it?" He felt Severus shifting slightly away to look down at him. Harry squinted up, but couldn't see anything. "Harry?" Severus' voice tensed. Harry nuzzled his neck. "It's nothing," he said, pressing a soothing kiss on Snape's jugular vein. "I'm just happy."
"Mh, post-coital endorphins," Snape mused in a satisfied tone.
Harry looked up again. "What?" He sniggered. "I'm just happy to be with you."
"That's what I- oh, never mind."
"Was it," Harry hesitated, "Alright for you? I mean, is there anything I could do better next time?"
Severus smirked at him, then kissed the crown of his head. "It was acceptable. We'll work on the details."
"Acceptable?" Harry laughed, his tone outraged. "Excuse me?"
Snape's smirk turned wider. "Well, it only means that we will have to do this again. Until you get it right. And knowing your abysmal learning-skills, we may have to practise very often."
"Alright," Harry amended, mollified. "It was acceptable for me, too."
Severus stretched, then disengaged Harry from his chest. He turned around and lay on his belly, grasping his pillow. Harry waited until he settled, then scooted nearer, draping an arm over Severus' waist. "Alright?"
Severus nodded. Harry closed his eyes and smiled.
Enjoy. Concrit is appreciated.