February 22, 1997: Snape
Snape knew he had been moving in somewhat of a daze since apparating away from the Dark Lord, and if his current thoughts and actions were anything to judge by he was still not entirely recovered. Really, he should have gotten over being found out and surviving the Killing Curse by now. He blamed the removal of his Dark Mark.
Because really, what else could be responsible for the fact that he was still standing just inside the door embracing Harry Potter? What else could explain his thought that they fit together perfectly, like they'd been made to stand this way? Yes, it had to be the Mark.
Though that did not explain everything. For instance, the fact that Potter was clutching him just as desperately. Or that the fingers of his right hand were carding through Snape's hair and his face was buried in Snape's neck inhaling deeply, like he could not get enough of Snape's scent. No, all things considered he could not think of anything that adequately explained the situation.
Perhaps it was not real—perhaps he was dreaming. How else would it have been possible for his perfect birthday gift to have been from Potter? For Potter to say that he respected him? To say he knew the Half-Blood Prince was Snape, and that he needed to touch him?
But his body still ached from the ineffectual Killing Curse and he was trembling slightly. He would not be in pain if this were a dream, would he?
He pulled back slightly so he could see Potter's face—it was open and frank, but Snape could not readily identify what he saw displayed there. Whatever it was, it was making his stomach flip and his heart beat faster.
"I—" do not want to be alone "—appreciate your assistance," Snape said, glancing at his left arm.
"No problem," Potter replied, a warm smile on his lips.
"You should—" stay, would you stay here with me? "—probably be getting back. It is rather late."
Potter bit his lower lip. "If you don't mind, I'd rather stay," he said, trying valiantly to suppress a yawn.
"Would you—" hold me in the dark? "—like to lie down?"
One shy smile and slight nod later, he was leading Potter by the hand to his bedchamber. They cautiously removed their clothing until they were wearing undershirts and trousers, and Snape folded back the quilt, holding his hand out to Potter. 'I'm inviting him into my bed,' he thought incredulously.
Snape settled onto his back, suddenly nervous, while Potter lay on his side with his hand propped on his elbow looking at him, studying him almost. He reached out with his free hand and traced Snape's jaw from ear to chin.
"You're beautiful," he mumbled, and Snape's whole body immediately tensed. He had known this was too good to be true. He had known he did not deserve this.
Snape turned onto his side facing away from the brat and closed his eyes. He could not help seeing the Dark Lord's face speaking with his father's voice, and said through tightly clenched jaws, "I know what I am—do not mock me, not now."
"I wouldn't," Potter said, and Snape could feel the young man spooning up behind him. Potter gently moved Snape's hair aside and placed a kiss below his ear.
"So beautiful," he whispered against Snape's ear, then draped an arm over his waist.
Snape very nearly sighed. He wanted to stay awake, to just lie there and bask in the feeling of this man holding him like no one ever had before, his hear warming Snape's body, his breath against Snape's skin, but he was too exhausted and felt consciousness slipping away.
He woke with a feeling of perfect contentment, and was frankly surprised he even recognized the totally foreign sensation. He felt so safe.
A mop of tousled hair greeted him when he finally opened his eyes. He knew that mop—surely this was another dream. Deciding to take full advantage before he awoke for real, he leaned over the young man placing light kisses all over his face and said, "Harry."
Then green eyes were open and looking into his and shining with a smile.
"Sn…Severus," said the perfect pink mouth, which was also smiling, and then there was a hand behind his head and Harry was kissing him. Yes, this was a good dream.
"My Prince," Harry said when they broke the kiss. "How are you feeling? Are you still in pain from the curse?"
Snape furrowed his brow. What was he talking about? When he thought about it his joints did ache, though not too terribly. While taking stock of his body, he also noticed he was not wearing his usual nightshirt. Realization flooded his mind and he rolled away. Dear Merlin.
"Gods, I'm sorry. It was not a dream. I'm so sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Harry said, "And yes, you're awake. It that so bad?"
"I should never have—"
"Stop it. I kissed you, in case you've forgotten. And I don't regret it. Do you?" Harry asked, his fingers stroking thought Snape's hair.
"I should," he said quietly.
A hand on his chest pushed until he rolled onto his back and found green eyes looking at him intently.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"You are my student."
"Is that all?"
Of course not. There were a hundred reasons why he should not do this. I want you too much. It is too dangerous. You will be reviled by your friends. You are too beautiful and I am too ugly. You would say something childish and I would insult you. I would hold you back. You deserve so much better. I am broken. You will leave me.
There were a hundred reasons, but he could not speak them.
Harry broke the silence. "I know you're scared—I'm scared too. But I don't think I can give you up. it's about time for breakfast now and I should probably get back before Ron sends out a search, but I'd like to come back. If that's okay."
Snape studied his face for a moments—yes, he did look scared, but sincere too—and nodded.
The young man visibly relaxed and said, "Good. Can I kiss you again before I go?"
"May I," Snape corrected automatically.
Harry smirked. "Yes, you may," he said, leaning down to him.
And then they were kissing again. Knowing it was real, Snape paid more attention this time. He was quite relieved to find that Harry did not taste like a little boy. He did not taste like candy or pumpkin juice or innocence. No, he tasted clean and sharp and subtle—he tasted amazing. Snape could get addicted to that taste.
But they had to breathe, and the kiss was broken.
"When shall I come back?" Harry asked, his lips red and swollen, "Are you busy after lunch?"
"Eager, aren't we?" Snape teased, then shook his head. "No, I am not busy. I have marking to do, but it is not pressing."
"Great, I'll see you then." One more peck on his lips and Harry was up and gathering his things and heading for the door. Just before he left he turned back with a bright, joyful smile, and then he was gone, leaving Snape feeling simultaneously bereft that Harry had gone and delighted that he wanted to come back.
February 22, 1997: HarryHe tried, honestly he did, but Harry could not get the silly grin off his face. He'd found his Prince, and he liked him back. And he absolutely could not believe he had been so bold with Snape, but he honestly didn't see how he could have done it any other way.
He sat at the Gryffindor table across from Ron and Hermione, playing with his lunch. He'd told them about finding the spell and rushing down to the dungeons and how Snape had been discovered by Voldemort and Harry had removed his Dark Mark. He'd told them Snape was rather shaken up by the night's events and that he'd stayed to make sure he was okay. He'd also told them that their lesson last night had been but short by Snape's summons and he had to go back after lunch to make it up.
He thought he'd explained everything perfectly well, but they were still giving him odd looks. It was probably the persistent grin, but there really wasn't anything he could do about it.
He tried really hard not to state at Snape up and the Head Table and contented himself with a few brief glances. He was sitting next to Dumbledore, and they were speaking in hushed tones. Snape was probably telling him about being found out and Harry coming down to the dungeons and removing his Dark Mark. Harry was sure he wouldn't tell him about anything else—the kissing, namely—but he hoped their stories were consistent when it came to filling in the holes.
By the time lunch was over, he was practically squirming with anticipation—not of anything in particular, but of possibilities. When Snape finally left the staff table, he forced himself to wait a few minutes, then dashed off after him.
Breathless, he knocked on Snape's door. When the man opened the door and let him in, he suddenly had no idea what to do. They stood staring at each other in awkward silence for a moment before Snape asked, "Tea?"
"Sure, thanks," Harry answered, grateful to have something to do. Snape invited him to sit in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and settled himself in the other. They sat, sipping their tea and watching the flames dance.
When he ran out of tea to distract himself with, Harry resigned himself to the fact that if he wanted to have a conversation, he was going to have begin it.
"I know you brought back important information," he said suddenly, his voice unexpectedly loud in the cozy room, "but I'm glad you don't have to do it anymore. I know what he gets up to, and I'm so glad you don't have to go back."
"We have lost a valuable asset, but I must admit that I am glad as well."
"Just the thought of you getting hurt…again. I've seen some of the things that go on at those meetings, and I don't want him to hurt you anymore."
"What have you seen? You haven't…have you seen what he does…to me?" Snape asked, clearly terrified, and Harry removed his gaze from his empty teacup to search Snape's face.
"What does he—did he—do to you?"
Snape lowered his gaze. "It is of no consequence."
Harry set his teacup on the floor and took the few steps to stand next to Snape's chair. "Are you sure?"
"I just…not now. Not now."
"Okay," Harry said, wanting to dispel the man's obvious unease, "let's not talk about that anymore. Kiss me instead."
Snape's head snapped up at that, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He nodded, then stood and wrapped his arms around Harry, kissing him just as he'd asked. Harry immediately snaked a hand into Snape's silky tresses—he could not get enough of that wonderful hair. If Snape ever cut it, he was going to positively murder him.
And his skin was just amazing to touch. Now that the magical tingle had worn off, he could really appreciate the feel of that pale skin under his fingers and his lips, and he wanted more of it. He pulled back slightly to start working on the buttons keeping him from what he wanted and scowled.
"What is it?" Snape asked.
"There are way too many buttons on your robes," Harry complained.
Snape looked at him like he was completely astonished Harry would ever even think of removing his robes. Harry continued struggling with the buttons, but he had only got two undone so far.
Thinking of the fact that it was Saturday and he was only wearing trousers and a jumper, Harry muttered under his breath, "This is so unfair."
"Why?"
"Because I want to touch you—I want to see you and smell you and taste you and feel your bare skin against mine, and you've got a million bloody buttons in the way!"
Snape reached up and grasped Harry's frantic hands, stilling them. He looked up to see dark eyes smoldering. Snape removed Harry's hand from his chest, then undid the buttons himself in less than thirty seconds. Well, if he had to do it every day, he would have gotten good at it.
As soon as the last button was undone, Harry reached up to Snape's shoulders and pushed his robe off. He still had a waistcoat and shirt on, but at least they were moving in the right direction. But still…
"More buttons!" Harry exclaimed. Yes, this was definitely unfair. Snape rolled his eyes and divested himself of his waistcoat.
"Are you satisfied now?" he asked.
"No," Harry answered, and immediately tackled the shirt buttons. And least there were fewer, and they weren't those awful tiny ones.
Before he'd got halfway down, Snape stilled his hands again. "Potter—Harry, I am not…I do not have an attractive body. I felt I should warn you."
"Well, so far I think your body's plenty attractive—downright sexy, if you don't mind my saying—and I like you just the way you are."
Snape released his hands, but he still had trepidation in his eyes.
Harry finished with the blasted buttons and peeled the shirt away.
"Bloody hell, did he do this to you?"
Snape pulled back and reached down to retrieve his shirt. "The Dark Lord ordered it, but he did not do it himself," he answered, struggling to get his shirt back on, "I am sorry, I should never have—"
"No, please," Harry said, tugging the shirt out of his hands. "Don't. You are not your scars, any more than I am mine." He tossed he shirt away, out of reach.
"I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna torture him and kill him, then resurrect him so I can kill him again. I am so sorry this had to happen to you."
Snape was looking bewildered again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "You are not…disgusted with me?"
"With you? Never. Him, I'm pretty disgusted with at the moment, but I'm trying to focus on more pleasant things. Like what I've got right in front of me," Harry replied, then dipped his head to kiss Snape's chest. He didn't really know what the protocol with scars was, so he didn't avoid them or seek them out. He just moved his mouth and hands where he wanted them and took in whatever he found there.
Then he heard a sound he had been waiting to hear for what felt like ages—Snape moaned. Harry's cock twitched and a smile quirked on his lips. He had done that, he had given Snape that pleasure. And he never wanted to stop.
"Could we maybe, you know," he said, glancing at the bedroom door.
Snape moaned again, kissed him hard, and led him to the bed. Once they got there, Harry pulled his jumper over his head and started removing his trousers, looking pointedly at Snape's until he unfastened them as well.
And then they were both naked and panting, staring at each other beside the bed. Harry raked his eyes down Snape's body—he would never get enough of it, he was certain. But there was something he should probably know before they got much further.
"Er, Snape?"
"Severus."
"What?"
"My name is Severus. Harry."
Harry felt an unexpected rush of warmth and smiled. "Yes. Severus. There's uh…I should tell you…I've never really…or at all, come to that…"
"Harry? Are you trying to tell me you are a virgin?"
Harry blushed profusely and nodded at the floor. Snape closed the distance between them and lifted Harry's head by his chin.
"It is nothing of which you should be ashamed."
Harry squirmed. "I just don't want to mess this up."
Snape chuckled. "I do not believe there is any danger of that. Just kissing you almost makes me come."
Harry gulped past the lump in his throat. Sweet Merlin, that voice…saying words like that…
He pushed Snape down onto the bed and fell on top of him, resuming his exploration of all that lovely bare skin. He experimentally took a nipple into his mouth and bit it softly.
"Oh! Harry," he heard from above him, followed by another of the electrifying moans he was quickly becoming addicted to. He played with the nipple until Snape was writhing under him, then moved lower.
He'd never been anywhere near this close to another guy's cock before, and he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do. Panic was threatening to take him when he noticed a drop of moisture beaded at the head. He went with his instinct and licked it off.
Snape's hips bucked and he cried, "Harry! Oh sweet Merlin…" so Harry licked him again. He licked and kissed all up and down the hard length, then took the head into his mouth. He had hoped he would be able to do more than that, but he didn't see how anything else was going to fit, so he contented himself with sucking and tonguing just that part.
A few moments later, Snape gasped, "Oh, I'm going to, I'm going…" and tried to push Harry's head away. But Harry did know enough to know that it was polite to swallow, so he stayed right where he was. He was rewarded a couple of seconds later with Snape's hot semen shooting into his mouth.
He tried to swallow as much as he could, but some leaked out and was dribbling down his chin. Feeling a bit foolish, he sat up and raised his hand to wipe it away, but Snape stopped him and actually licked it off.
Harry couldn't help himself. "Gods, you're amazing," he groaned. Then he remembered his decidedly inexperienced actions and asked, "Was that okay?"
Snape raised an eyebrow. " 'Okay'? No, I daresay it was a great deal more than 'okay'. It's your turn now, if that is what you would like."
Harry moaned. "Oh, Merlin yes. I mean, if you want to."
"It would be my pleasure," Snape almost growled, and then Harry was on his back and Snape was kissing quickly down his torso and, "Oh!" There was a hot wet mouth surrounding him and, "Gods, feels so good!" Harry had no idea how Snape managed it, but his entire cock was in Snape's mouth—he could actually feel the tip pressing against the back of his throat.
Then he was moving his head up and down and a hand was on Harry's bollocks then pressing the skin underneath them, "Severus!" then tracing over his arsehole and pressing and dear sweet Merlin…
"Sev—Severus!" he shouted and came harder than he ever remembered doing before. He wanted to say something, to tell him it was bloody amazing or at least thank him, but all he could do was lie there and pant.
"You look positively ravished," Snape said, moving up beside him.
"I think I am," Harry replied, snuggling closer.
"Don't get too comfortable. I am sure your friends will be wondering where you are."
"Oh, I told them I had to make up last night's lesson," Harry said, closing his eyes and burying his face against Snape's neck.
"It has been over two hours, Harry. You cannot wait much longer."
Harry sighed. He was right, of course. "I don't want to go," he said, trying not to sound whiney. "I wanted to talk to you."
"We can talk on Monday, brat. Best get going before you fall asleep." Snape pressed a kiss to Harry's temple and stood up, gathering Harry's clothes. Soon he was dressed again and there was nothing for him to do but leave.
"I'll miss you," he said timidly.
"Until Monday, Harry," Snape replied, and Harry would've sworn he was fighting down a smile. It was going to be hell waiting until Monday.
