Author's notes: This is where this fic began taking a mind of its own and started writing itself. Hopefully you enjoy the remaining few chapters as much as I enjoyed writing them.
Chapter 12: In Which Harry Gets What He Wants
As usual, any news in the subject of Harry Potter's love life was the talk of the school. Harry had heard many reasons as to why he and Terry had broken up: that he was really straight, that Terry was unable to perform in bed, that Harry needed to sacrifice himself to kill Voldemort and didn't want any ties, that he was having an affair with a member of the Ministry. Harry did as he always did in these instances, scoff and shake his head. He refused to give anyone anything they could take to the Prophet. The only comment he would make was that he and Terry were still on good terms and planned to stay that way.
Malfoy had tried to talk to Harry about what had happened, but Harry refused. If the git didn't want to hear Harry Potter drama, then he definitely wasn't allowed to hear Harry Potter breakup drama either. Neville had also approached Harry, clearly wanting for more details with the breakup, but Harry avoided him as well. He was in no mood to discuss his feelings for Snape yet. It wasn't quite time to bring them into the open. Hell, he wasn't sure if there was ever going to be a time.
It seemed as though Snape had just dumped Selhorn without much thought. She was relatively miserable for a week, her makeup constantly streaked from the tears she let out when no one was looking. However, she seemed to get over it quickly and move on. She had taken to starting a Dueling Club for her more advanced students. Despite the fact that he would enjoy it, Harry chose not to join, and instead, focused on his Potions work.
Terry had appeared to have moved on quite well, or at least was coping with the heartbreak Harry had caused him. They still worked well in their Potions partnership. In fact, they had sent in the first draft for their article the week before.
Meanwhile, things were at a standstill between Harry and Snape. Neither of them had made a move since their confrontation in the broom closet. Harry chalked it up to the fact that they were probably waiting for the other to approach them first. He knew the kind of man Snape was, that whatever they had would not be easy to work through, but dammit, Harry was frustrated. He wished that it were possible for the man to act his age and ask to do something with him. He decided a little game was okay, and promised himself that he would not be the first to budge. He had been the one to admit his feelings first, and then to try and convince Snape that they should try to be together. No, it was now Snape's move.
That move happened in early March, just as they were starting several advanced Potions, each for healing, to be sent directly to St. Mungo's after creating.
"Each of you will be responsible for one type of potion. I will write a recommendation letter to whoever has the best potion."
The entire class' jaws dropped to the floor. Snape was a highly respected Potions Master, a recommendation from Snape would guarantee instant admission to virtually anything they possibly wanted to apply to. Everyone sat up a little straighter and hung onto Snape's every word.
"You will draw a potion out of the goblet," Snape explained and began walking around the classroom, allowing his students to take a piece of parchment from it.
As Snape approached Harry, he fought to keep from smiling at the professor as he reached in and took out a slip of paper. He looked at it and read, "Blood Regeneration". He sighed in frustration; it was a very hard potion, which required a lot of attention over several weeks. Most of the other potions in the room would be done by the time the evening had passed.
Snape leaned in much too close to Harry. "You will watch this potion as if it were your child, Potter. I expect you to be here well before the potion needs to be stirred and well after."
Harry froze. Had Snape given him that potion intentionally, knowing that it meant he would need to be in the dungeons more frequently? He looked at Snape hopefully, who gave him a subtle nod and moved on to the next table of students.
His heart leaped into his throat as he picked up the necessary ingredients from the supply cupboards and took out his glassware. He began slicing the trout fins, trying to put all of his focus on the knife other than the fact that he had the opportunity to be alone with Snape for extended periods of time for the next coming weeks.
"You seem unusually happy for Potions class," Ron commented as he crushed his porcupine quills. "Isn't that a potion that takes a long time?"
"You've clearly done your homework," Harry retorted. "Yeah, perfecting a potion that takes dedication would be more impressive than creating something that just takes a couple hours, right?"
"Do you really think Snape will write you a recommendation letter, even if you did create the best potion in the class?" Ron asked.
Harry stopped; he had completely forgotten about the whole reason for the assignment. "Well, it's worth a shot, isn't it? If I want Snape to respect me, I should probably start proving to him that I can do respectable things."
Ron shrugged. "Bloody good luck to you, mate. My goal is to make sure that anyone who gets a bruise will have the bruise removed and not break out in hives."
Harry laughed and continued working. He checked the information on how to create his potion. He had to come by in seven hours, just after dinner, to add in some lacewings.
Dinnertime couldn't come soon enough.
It seemed odd that just five months ago, during dinner time, he was dreading coming down to the dungeons to see Snape. Now, he was counting the minutes, constantly doing a Tempus Charm. When asked why he was so nervous, he explained that he had to create a very difficult potion while Snape was breathing down his neck.
The idea, of course, of Snape breathing down his neck aroused him. He tried to focus on his pumpkin juice instead, which he noticed had been several degrees colder than the usual pumpkin juice. Or perhaps he was just making up things to try and distract himself from his excitement in seeing Snape again.
He felt just a little guilty as he glanced over at Terry, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table. He smiled and waved at Harry when he saw him looking in his direction. Harry waved back and continued on. Terry was a second thought to him now.
He wasn't even sure how he made it down to the dungeons. His brain was unable to move, but his feet clearly were functional. Gently pushing the door open, Harry walked inside.
"I'm here early," Harry said softly when he saw Snape bending over some cauldrons, running a finger along the inside to check how clean it was. He looked up and set his eyes on Harry.
"Yes…a half an hour early I see. You're following directions quite well, if I may say so myself."
Harry beamed at the obvious compliment. "I thought you might want to…talk before I added my lacewings in," Harry said, a pool of lust filling his stomach, walking closer to the man.
"The rumor mill says you and Boot are completely over. Or at least, most of what I've heard says that. They also say that you broke up with him due to impotence."
"Well, you know that isn't true," Harry grinned. "But yes, we are completely over with."
"Yet you are still Potions partners."
"Yeah, but nothing more. I promise," Harry insisted.
Snape glanced around and motioned for Harry to join him in his private office, just outside of the classroom. "Is this what you want?" he asked.
"No," Harry responded. "This is what I want." He lunged at Snape and kissed him hungrily. Again, he jumped onto Snape, wrapping his legs around Snape's waist.
"Bloody insistent brat," Snape muttered, pulling away just long enough to speak the words.
Harry shut him up with another kiss, pouring out all of the frustration he had for the other man the past few weeks. Their lips moved with such synchronicity, Harry felt as though they had rehearsed this. Snape began kissing down Harry's neck, allowing his hot breath to caress his skin as well. Harry moaned and allowed his hands to run up and down Snape's back. Snape carried him to his chair and sat down, Harry still straddling him.
That was when Snape began rubbing himself against Harry. Harry could feel the outline of his prick through the many layers of clothing between them and started thrusting as well. Snape found Harry's lips again and enveloped him in yet another searing kiss.
For those moments, it was just the two of them. The classroom, Hogwarts, hell even the world, melted away as they moaned, their pace quickening as each of them grew closer to the edge.
Harry pressed his whole body closer to Snape as he moved back and forth, crying out as he was pushed to the point of climax. Through his orgasm, he continued to thrust, pressing deep against his lover as he heard Snape's low cries, indicating he too was climaxing.
They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other and trying to catch their breaths. Harry nuzzled his face in Snape's neck. "Why did you make me wait for so long?" Harry finally asked, still buried in Snape's collar. Snape didn't answer, but held Harry tighter. "Really, you knew me and Terry were over weeks ago."
"I wanted to make sure that this was the right thing for me, for you, for us," Snape replied in a frustrated tone.
"I know you have trouble sharing your feelings," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry."
Snape pulled away gently from Harry. "You see, that's just it. You shouldn't have to be sorry that you asked your lover a question."
Harry smiled. "Is that what we are? Lovers?"
Snape threw his head back in exasperation. "Really? I give an inch you take a mile, don't you?"
Harry squeezed Snape's arm briefly and stood up. "It's the least you could do after ruining my trousers."
"I ruined your trousers?" he asked, performing a quick Cleaning spell. Harry felt a brush of cold against his skin and then admired his now clean pants. "Come, let's go back and get your lacewings in. St. Mungo's is in need of this potion."
"So, tell me. Did you give me that potion on purpose?" Harry asked. "I thought we were supposed to draw our assigned potion at random."
"If you'd rather have a different potion, I'm sure I can arrange it," Snape said dryly.
"No, I'm pretty pleased with the perks of this one," Harry said, opening the door. "Where do you keep the lacewings?"
"Wouldn't you know where they are?" Snape sneered. "You've stolen enough things out of my storage cupboards to catalogue my ingredients."
"Now, that's just not true," Harry said softly. "I never stole anything myself. Other people always did it for me. I wouldn't know the cupboard that holds boomslang skin from gillyweed."
"You finally admit it, then? That you've stolen ingredients from my cabinets?" Snape asked, moving back to his desk in the classroom.
"Would I get a detention if I said yes?" Harry asked, finding the lacewing flies and began counting them.
"Yes."
"If that is the case, then yes. I am, in fact, responsible for any past, present, or future ingredients missing from your cupboards."
Things went on like this for a little while. Harry would show up early to see his potion, and he and Snape would spend some quality time together. They hadn't had sex again yet, which Harry was curious as to why. Each time Harry tried to tell him that he wanted to, Snape seemed to take control of the situation and would go down on him instead.
In between these times, Snape had finally begun opening up to Harry. He was thrilled with the fact that he now knew that Snape's favorite color was silver, that he grew up in Spinner's End, and that his favorite memory of his mother was when she took him to Diagon Alley for the first time (a memory which Harry could relate to with Hagrid). Best of all, they were on a fairly consistent first name basis by this point. He supposed he could have a man's cock in his mouth only so many times until he had to call the man by his given name, Severus.
The hardest part of their arrangement were the times when he, Terry, and Severus met together to work on the article for the Potions Quarterly. They had edited it to the point of perfection and it was set to be published the following month. However, it didn't end there. Several organizations wanted to honor them across the continent. Dumbledore had been very accommodating, giving them permission to go to a conference in Italy, along with some extra security from the Order.
Harry was finding it more and more difficult to be with Severus when he was near Terry. He was worried that Terry would look at the two of them and just know something was going on between them. However, this conference was something Harry had been looking forward to for a while. This was an accomplishment for him–something he had actually done that had nothing to do with Voldemort–that only he could claim credit for.
On the night they were to leave, they met up outside of the castle. Severus had given them instructions that they were to stay with the Order members or himself at all moments in time during the trip. Kingsley and Mundungus were joining them to help keep them safe in case of an attack from Voldemort. Harry was thrilled that he got to go to a foreign country with all of these people. While he knew that he and Severus would most likely have no alone time together, he could still imagine what a romantic dinner might look like overlooking Rome.
They had to Apparate. Deciding to do Side-Along Apparation, they split up. Mundungus would go by himself, Severus would Apparate with Harry, and Terry and Kingsley would follow. Harry acted uncomfortable that he had to hold onto Severus, but he grinned up at his lover the whole time. Severus shook his head, annoyed, but clearly amused with the boy, and Apparated them.
Harry hated the feeling of Apparation. It was worse than a Portkey, with the squeezing and suffocation. This was a particularly long trip as well, so he felt rather dizzy. Luckily, that gave Severus the opportunity to hold onto him for just a fraction more while Harry caught his balance.
They had Apparated right next to the hotel they would be staying in, which was where the conference was being held. From the outside, it just looked like a building being renovated, but Harry knew that something great must be inside. They opened up the doors and Terry gasped.
It was a grand lobby, with velvet red carpet floors and walls. This was clearly an old hotel, as portraits of the previous owners were all hung, greeting guests as they walked by. A group of witches stood at the front of the lobby. They motioned for the bellboys to help gather their belongings as Harry and everyone walked forward.
"Hello, yes, I have three rooms for Shacklebolt," Kingsley said in his low voice.
The lobby girl nodded and made a check next to the list in front of her. "May I see your wands?" she asked. Everyone obliged. She waved each one in front of an odd device, which beeped after a few seconds. Handing the wands back to their owners, she said, "Your wands are now keyed to your rooms. You just need to wave them in front of the door handle and they will open for you."
The group trudged up the stairs. While they were walking, Kingsley brought up room assignments. "Right, so Mundungus is acting as bait, if anyone decides to attack. We are claiming that Harry is sleeping in that room, when really, you will be staying in a room with Professor Snape. Boot and I will be in the room across from you."
Harry stared at Kingsley in shock. He patted Harry on the shoulder with sympathy. "I know, but it's only for a few nights, and it really is the safest thing to do. The last thing any Death Eater will suspect is that you will be staying in a room with Severus. Right then, let's unpack." Kingsley turned and left to his room.
Harry waved his wand in front of the door handle, and sure enough, it opened up for him. He and Severus walked inside the room. It was beautiful, painted canary yellow with royal blue curtains covering up the window. He admired the entire room, which was extravagant, yet quaint at the same time. Harry had never stayed anywhere so luxurious before.
He turned to Severus, who was unpacking his suitcase. Harry watched as he meticulously removed his bag of toiletries and placed them on the sink, making sure their angles matched perfectly. "Did you set this up?" he asked.
"I may have been the one to suggest that no one would ever think of putting us in a room together, not even the Dark Lord himself," Severus replied smoothly. "There was some discussion. I argued against it a bit, but Albus agreed with the idea in the end."
Harry grinned. "So we have two days of a bedroom to ourselves?" he asked, leering at Snape.
Severus dismissed him and started hanging up his clothes. "Don't be such a teenager. We have serious work to do here this weekend. You have several interviews, as well as a table in the expo. I doubt you'll be awake late enough for anything that might go on in the bedroom," he drawled.
"You have no idea what my stamina is like," Harry said.
"I do. It's less than impressive. What's the longest you've lasted, five minutes?"
Severus smirked. Harry threw a pillow at him.
"You're obscene," Harry commented and realized his things weren't in the room. "My suitcase is with Mundungus, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so," Severus replied, only half listening.
Harry pouted. "Well, I would like to retrieve my suitcase. What if there is a Death Eater outside my door, waiting for me? What would I do, as a helpless youth, I need the fierce Order member assigned to me to help keep me safe."
Severus stopped unpacking and glared at Harry slightly, but without his usual malice. "Really? That's the best you can come up with?" When Harry continued giving him puppy eyes, Severus rolled his eyes and started walking toward the door, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and tugging him along.
Severus walked quickly up to Mundungus' door, rapped on it three times, then called out, "Dung, we need to see you for just a second."
Mundungus opened up the door, already smoking something foul from a pipe. "What is it you want, eh?"
"The boy's things?" Severus suggested.
"Right-o. Got 'em right here," Mundungus held up Harry's suitcase and handed it to Severus.
He passed it to Harry. "I may be your watchdog, Potter, but I'm no mule," he glared.
Harry took the suitcase and forced a glare on his face. "Thank you for reminding me, sir." He was secretly giggling on the inside, eagerly awaiting the sex that was about to happen, if the look on Severus' face was anything to go by.
"Good night, Dung. Be up by seven tomorrow. We have an early breakfast before an interview."
"Bloody hell, what did you sign me up for?" Mundungus complained as he closed the door.
Harry followed Severus back to their room. He looked up at Severus expectantly.
After a moment of hesitation, Severus said, "Aren't you going to unpack?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't really unpack. I just take things I need out of the suitcase."
"Merlin, give me strength," Severus said as he lay on his bed.
Harry sat on Severus' bed as well, and crossed his legs. "Is there any room for me there?" he asked.
Severus moved over, allowing Harry to have some room. He lay on his stomach and looked up at Severus. "Are you excited for tomorrow?"
"Well, we are all basically celebrities now. Everyone who is anyone in the potions world wants to meet us."
"You're hating it."
"You know me all too well."
Harry leaned into Severus on the bed. "That's a good thing, right?"
"I suppose things could be worse," Severus said as he turned on his right side to face Harry.
"They really could," Harry commented and moved up to kiss his lover.
This time, the kisses were just as heated and filled with passion as before, but they were shorter, more gentle than they ever had been. Severus quickly removed Harry's shirt and began licking his nipples, which he knew drove Harry crazy. Harry could only lie there and enjoy what was being done to him. Next came the trousers.
Severus expertly undid Harry's button and zipper and slid them down Harry's legs. He made his way toward Harry's cock, giving it a kiss every few inches down.
Then, he did something different. He lifted Harry's legs and licked along his pucker. Harry sat up quickly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm preparing you slowly," Severus replied, licking him again.
Harry sat back, still feeling uncomfortable. This didn't seem like a safe, clean thing for him to do. And what was the point of –
Just then, Severus plunged his tongue into Harry's hole, all while nuzzling Harry's testicles with his nose. Oh, that large nose did have amazing uses. Harry gave a short cry and wiggled his bottom, wanting more.
Harry felt something else slide into him, next to Severus' tongue. It felt amazing, not burning at all. He realized it was Severus' finger. He was being stretched; he was doing the things that he had read about in the self-help books. Harry went to touch himself, but Severus swatted his hand away with his free hand. "Mine," he muttered, his mouth full.
Severus continued using his tongue and finger to stretch Harry. He inserted another finger inside of Harry, which angled its way straight up to Harry's prostate. With this, he cried out. "I want you to fuck me now," Harry panted.
"Not yet," Severus responded, inserting a third finger inside of him and removing his tongue, which instead licked across his perineum. Harry was reduced to a babbling mess, caught between moaning in pleasure and begging Severus to fuck him.
Severus finally slid his fingers out of Harry's arse and removed his own trousers. He brought his cock up to Harry's mouth. "Wet me down," he demanded.
Harry obliged, taking Severus deep in his mouth and licking up and down the shaft. Severus gave a pleasure sigh, pulled out, and positioned himself at Harry's entrance. On his knees on the mattress, he slowly slid himself in.
It was this moment that Harry enjoyed the most about sex, that initial feeling of fullness, of the lack of stress now, and the orgasm that was promised to come. It was a sweet relief, the answer to the question of all of that build up.
Then Severus began to move and Harry decided that was his favorite part. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment as Severus slowly pulled out and pushed back in, pushing against Harry's prostate again and deeper with each thrust.
Harry cried out, starting to move in sync with Severus' thrusts. This wasn't like the other two times they had sex. No, this was slower, done more properly, more fulfilling. Harry appreciated it; it showed that they weren't just slaves to lust–that there was something there.
Severus moved in to twist Harry's nipple. He shuddered as a wave of pleasure ripped through his body. The man moved on to his prick, and, watching Harry closely, began to stroke the leaking tip. Harry kept his eyes trained on Severus. He was looking healthier, looking less like a miserable ghost and more like a person, a rather attractive person. Severus had been bathing more frequently, so his skin was soft and clean. He smelled fantastic as well, like creosote bush, a plant they had recently used in class.
Severus began to pick up the pace, stroking the white hot bundle of nerves inside Harry each time. Harry knew that there were other guests next door, but that didn't stop him from his moaning babble of pleasure, ranging from, "Oh, fuck yes" to "Please" and "Harder" and much more. Each time he tried to grab himself, to finish himself off, Severus would slap Harry's hand away. He gritted his teeth in frustration. Severus was intentionally holding back to make this last longer.
"Please, fuck me harder, pull me off faster, oh please," Harry pleaded through Severus' thrusts.
"I thought you said you had stamina?" Severus smirked, making a point to thrust a little harder into Harry.
"I – oh god – I don't. I have the stamina of a rabbit. Please, just make me come. I want to so badly," he begged.
"Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I could do you the favor." Severus grinned and began fucking Harry harder, his hand working up and down Harry's prick with expert skill. Harry was only able to last barely thirty seconds longer and came with a shrill cry, emptying himself onto his own stomach.
Severus continued fucking Harry, moving himself slower again. He closed his eyes languidly, as if this were some sort of afternoon nap. Harry, who was beginning to recover from his climax, watched Severus as he brought himself to completion, eventually speeding up and moving harder again. He gave a shudder and fell forward, thrusting with every spurt of come he put inside Harry.
"I love you," Harry whispered after Severus had pulled out and lay beside him, trying to catch his breath.
"You don't have to say that. You know that I won't say it back to you," Severus replied, but pulled Harry into a hug.
"No, but I wanted to tell you anyway. I couldn't bring myself to mean it when I said it to Terry, but I do mean it now. I mean it completely with you," Harry shared.
Severus shook his head. "I know what you want me to say," he said slowly. "You know how I feel. I can't just say that out loud yet."
"I told you, you don't need to. Will you at least tell me when you realized you wanted me?" he asked. "I didn't realize it until that night in the dungeons, when you caught me taking those measurements. I was so drawn to you. It was like everything in my body was arguing with itself, screaming how it wasn't right, but yet it was." He propped himself up with his elbows. "Eventually, my heart won out. At least, that's when I knew for sure. I was in denial before that, and I really did try to stop loving you after that, especially after our conversation on New Year's. So, what about you?"
Snape stared at him for a long while, his long spidery fingers combing through his hair. Finally, he spoke. "After you came back with Diggory's body, when Bartemius Crouch Jr. took you with him to his office, Albus demanded that I follow you. I didn't know what was wrong, but I felt a pang of fear. At first, I thought it was just a professor protecting his student, even one he despised. Then, when Albus and I walked into his office and I saw him with his wand turned on you, I felt a kind of fury that I had never felt before. That was when I realized that I wanted you. It was sick and wrong; I felt disgusted with myself. I am STILL disgusted with myself…that I lusted after my under-aged student. Yet, I kept my calm for over two years. Those Occlumency lessons – if you had seen some of the other thoughts I was concealing from you-"
"No," Harry whispered. "It isn't disgusting. You did it–you waited until I was of age to do anything. Had I not provoked you, you wouldn't had done anything that night, even after I was seventeen. We never would have been together. I would never call you disgusting."
"I shouldn't have had those feelings for you," Severus insisted. "They were wrong."
"I learned a long time ago that you can't control who you have feelings for. What matters is what you do with those feelings," he said, taking his hands again and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "You didn't do anything to me until I was seventeen. It took me a little bit longer to realize my feelings. Sure, you dealt with your crush in an unconventional way – verbally assaulting me until I was near the point of tears – but at least you tried to avoid it. Let's face it Severus, we're right for each other."
Severus sighed. "I'm glad you're not disgusted by me."
Harry stroked Severus' face. "Never."
Severus made a gagging sound. "Dating a Gryffindor really does make you want to lose your dinner."
Harry smiled. "It's the best diet ever!"
"Are you excited for tomorrow?" Severus asked, changing the subject.
"I am! We have so many interviews to do," Harry said. "And we have our own booth in the exhibit hall. I've never been to a convention. What do we even do?"
"Just answer any questions people might have," Severus explained. "You will get sick of repeating yourself, I promise."
"Severus?"
"Yes?"
"Can I sleep here? With you?"
"I suppose," Severus said pretending to be annoyed, but then quickly wrapping an arm around Harry.
"It's just that you're so warm," Harry commented, leaning into Severus' chest. "I just want to stay with you like this forever."
"Sleeping with another naked person in your bed forever would have its advantages," Severus commented. "But for now, let's just deal with tonight."
