XXV: The Dance
The next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione were having a quiet breakfast. None of them were hungover thanks to the little bottle of potion that found its way into the Common Room somehow during the night. They found it on the table with a little note that said, "Thank you for the cake, Mr. Weasley. It was indeed delicious."
The sobering potion was a great help yet still, half of Gryffindor (the older half thankfully) was still missing from the Great Hall during breakfast. Given it was Saturday, not even McGonagall seemed to mind it. She did ignore them however, and dismissed their cheerful, "Good Morning, Professor McGonagall," with an irritated huff. Harry's quiet, "Morning, Professor Snape," was also ignored by the dark man sitting on the Transfiguration professor's left.
"So, Ron," Hermione said over the Daily Prophet, pointedly not looking at her boyfriend. "Is your cousin Steve coming back any time soon?"
Ron snorted into his orange juice, while Harry ducked his head, trying to eat his porridge invisibly.
"No," Ron murmured. "I doubt it. He's… uhm… He's really busy."
"What is it that he does again?"
"He teaches," Harry said quietly, when Ron took too long to answer. "At Beauxbatons."
"Hm, is that so?" She said eyeing Harry over the pages. "He didn't look more than eighteen to me."
Harry cleared his throat. "He started early."
She hid behind the newspaper and Harry and Ron shared a relieved glance. They should have realized it was too easy, because the next moment, Hermione smashed the papers down onto the table and Harry heard the distinct distortion of the noise around them caused only by a Muffliato.
"Who was that?" Hermione demanded, her lips thinning.
"I told you, 'Mione, he's my cousin, Steve."
"Don't you lie to me, Ronald Weasley!" She glared at him. "You don't have a cousin Steve."
Harry leaned closer. "It's all right, Hermione…"
Her eyes shifted towards the Head Table, but she didn't dare look straight there.
"Who was it?" She hissed almost inaudibly.
"Hermione…" Harry tried placatory, but her eyes cast sparks.
"Harry Potter," she started strictly, but she was rudely interrupted by a bird, who landed in front of Ron.
Ron took the letter that was tied to the bird's leg and opened it. A cloud of brightly coloured confetti and glimmering glitter burst out of it, covering Ron's entire face and chest.
"What the hell?" He coughed, spluttering sparkles.
"What does it say?" Hermione inquired, trying to sneak a peek into the letter.
Ron's eyes quickly glanced over the lines, then he looked at Harry flabbergasted. Hermione was watching her boyfriend with the exact same expression.
"What?" Harry asked.
"I won a weekend in London."
"What?" Harry laughed.
"It says you won the monthly drawing of the Daily Prophet's crossword puzzle." Hermione said.
"Yeah," Ron nodded.
"Ron. You don't do crosswords. Ever."
"Apparently, I did it once."
"And you sent it in?"
"Apparently?" Ron gulped.
Hermione glared at them both, then leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. "Fine, then don't tell me."
Ron looked absolutely wretched and Harry hated the thought that his two best friends were arguing or even just mad at each other because of his secret.
He made sure the privacy spell was still functioning, then said, "It's Snape."
Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her palm.
"Don't look there," Harry said when her head stated turning. "He sent the letter and he was Steve, too."
"I knew it…" she whispered. "There was something in him that reminded me of Professor Snape, but then…" Her eyes widened as if suddenly realizing something. "Gods, Harry he was… yesterday, he was…"
"Yes." Harry nodded, suspecting she was recalling the hand on his thigh and their intertwined fingers.
She pushed her hand through her messy her as she stared blindly at the Prophet while she pieced together all the information she knew.
"Harry…" She breathed out in the end. "That's a very risky game to play…"
"It's not a game." Harry stated. He looked her in the eyes. A flicker of a warm smile crossed her lips.
"He's madly in love, Hermione, you should hear them. It's disgusting." Ron grunted, but then grinned at Harry.
"You," she pointed at Ron, "shut up. You," she looked back at Harry, "tell me everything."
And Harry did. From the beginning. He told them about the duels, about how intensive they were, about the healing touch, about the bruises he chose to keep, about the lessons, the blindfold, even about the 'does this bother you' parts. He told them about the fears and the soft feathers, about the dreams and the lies. He told them about the potions, the necklace, the flying, about the black grackle in Harry's bedroom. He told them everything.
The Great Hall was rather empty by the time he finished. Only a couple people lingered around, students from different Houses playing chess, relatives talking over a mug of tea.
"So this is for that extra ten minutes," Ron said in the end, lifting the envelope in question.
"No, Ron" Hermione shook her head. "That is a thank you for keeping your mouth shut and probably also for trying to involve him in Harry's life – however… unconventional your ideas might be."
"You mean unconventionally brilliant, right?" Ron grinned. "Because last night was absolutely brilliant."
"You're not going to say a word to anyone, will you?" Harry asked softly.
She sat in silence for a while, then said with a small shrug, "Well, it's not like it's illegal. You're of age. It's just highly inappropriate, and well… He's Snape. The papers will surely tear him apart for seducing you."
"He didn't do anything," Harry said.
Hermione snorted. "Yeah, sure, Harry. That blindfold got on you on its own, did it?"
Harry blushed.
o.O.o
Harry stood around idly, while Professor Wallace and Professor Flitwick explained what they had in mind for the Duelling Club. A rather large group assembled in the Great Hall for this occasion. Though no wonder, given Wallace promised a lot of excitement for them, and a great opportunity to release all exam related stress.
All the tables and chairs were pushed to the sides. They erected a circle stage in the middle, Wallace and Flitwick were on there now, both having a little speech, introducing duelling and telling a few words about where they learned to duel.
Some of the students around Harry seemed to be surprised to find out Wallace used to live in America. That was where he learned duelling as well, back in Ilvermorny. He came to England at the age of eighteen, to fight against Voldemort, before he could get strong enough to threaten the United States as well.
"Duelling is not an exercise to fight each other." Wallace said, his kind, brown eyes wandering on the crowd in front of him. "It is not a chance to revenge petty insults, nor is it an opportunity for payback. I do not want you fighting here."
He looked around, making sure everyone had eyes on him. He never had a problem with holding his audience's attention. He was well-respected enough among students, that they listened to him without needing to be told.
Now that so many of his peers were present, Harry noticed that couple girls acted rather strange around Wallace.
"What's wrong with them?" He pointed at the giggling girls who were watching Wallace with awe.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh, they're in love…" She almost spat the last word. "Wallace has a rather large fan club."
"Him at least I understand. He's loads better than Lockhart was." Ron commented.
Slightly surprised, Harry watched the girls, then his eyes turned to the man in the centre of their attention. Wallace was young, he supposed, handsome enough, too. With skin the colour of rich earth, and eyes like molten chocolate, he kind of understood why anyone would fancy him. He was also very approachable, very casual. Even now, instead of his usual teaching robes, he was wearing khaki pants and a purple shirt with a denim jacket that had white sleeves and a hoodie. The sleeves were tucked up, his dark tattoo of a hawk showing. His dreadlocks were tied back.
"I understand that what the Death Eaters had done to him is horrible," Harry whispered. "But why must he still blame Snape? He wasn't one of them." Harry sighed. "I really want to like him, but his prejudice always gets in the way."
"They killed his daughter, Harry, I doubt he could ever forget that." Hermione said.
"Well, it's not like it was Snape…" Ron said brushing out some leftover glitter from his hair. "It's like blaming him for Sirius' death, or Remus'. It's stupid. Unless of course, Snape did kill her."
"He didn't." Harry said, convinced, though he had no way of knowing it was true.
"How do you know?" Ron asked with a shrug. "We can't know that."
Harry shook his head. "He couldn't have killed an innocent girl."
"He killed Dumbledore, Harry," Hermione said quietly.
"Dumbledore asked him to do it."
"Yeah, well… you weren't there during the battle." Ron shuddered. "I'm not saying he did kill that girl or anything, but he can be very dangerous when he wants to."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Ron turned to look at him and lowered his voice even more. "I was close to him when uhm… when Hagrid brought back your body. When Voldemort told us you were dead, he… lost it, Harry. He became savage like an animal. That was when he killed Nagini. Tore that bloody snake apart. I know what they say, that he cut her up with a sword... There was no blade, Harry, just Snape's magic. He was frightening."
"Well," Harry murmured. "Nagini had it coming."
"Never said she didn't." Ron said. "All I'm saying is, I'm just glad Snape was on our side after all."
Harry looked around the room, his eyes searching the crowd for one dark individual. He knew Severus would be here, if not for Harry, then to make sure everything went down in order.
He found him near a group of professors. He was leaning against the door to the Hall. His eyes were on Wallace, paying attention to everything the man uttered. Then, as if sensing Harry's interested gaze, he slowly turned towards him, eyebrows aching.
Harry flashed him a quick smile then looked back at the professors on the stage. It couldn't have been Snape that killed Amanda Wallace. There had to be something else.
"Given how many of you have shown interest in a Duelling Club, I asked a little favour." Wallace said, "I'd like to invite Mr. Potter on the stage as well. You'll be trusted into his capable hands during the practice section of the trainings."
Harry was pushed and pulled up onto the platform by Ron and Flitwick. He walked to Wallace and they shook hands. Harry looked around the many faces, some of them he knew, some he didn't, and some he had even fought with during the battle. He was glad to see many people from all four Houses.
"I guess, Mr. Potter here needs no introduction. You all know who he is," Wallace chuckled, and a murmur of laughter ran through the crowd below.
Harry brushed five fingers through his messy hair awkwardly. No matter how many lessons he assisted with, he still felt self-conscious when everyone paid attention to him.
"He's been assisting me during the semester with seventh year classes, while studying for his N.E.W.T. exams." A brief smile crossed Wallace's face as he watched Harry, then he winked. "Mr. Potter is, shall we say a challenge for us all, which is why, whoever defeats Mr. Potter during the remainder of the semester will automatically receive an Outstanding mark from me."
A couple people cheered and hooted. Harry saw some even high five their friends as if certain about their Defence Against the Dark Arts mark already. That made Harry smile.
"Would you like to say a couple words, Harry?" Wallace asked.
Harry nodded, then cleared his throat. "When I came here eight years ago," he started, "I knew nothing of magic. My grades were always average, or," he risked a glance at Snape as he said, "even below average." Long fingers slipped over Severus' mouth, but Harry knew he was smiling. "I'm not special. I'm only good at this because I practised hard. Duelling is the same as Quidditch, the more you do it, the more you practice, the better you will be. Sometimes you'll get injured, more often than not you'll even lose a fight. But as long as you don't stop, as long as you stand up and keep fighting, you'll always win."
A couple people clapped, and Harry smiled.
"So are we going to fight, or is this just going to be you talking, Potter?" asked one of Harry's year mates from Ravenclaw.
Harry grinned at him. "Why don't you come up here, Thomson?"
Thomson, a young man of seventeen, beater for the Ravenclaw team climbed up onto the stage.
"You know the basics?" Harry asked him.
"We bow, turn around, countdown from three, fight," nodded Thomson. "Harry," he said then before he would walk away. "I missed Quidditch practice for this. This better not be the same bullshit we saw from Lockhart."
"I guess that depends on you, Dany."
The professors climbed off the stage then Wallace raised a dome over them to restrict their spells inside.
Harry and Dany bowed to each other and turned away.
"One…" Wallace cried and Harry moved; every number one step. "Two… Three."
He turned around and pulled up a shield. Dany was good with nonverbals but the red spell coming Harry's way was obviously a Stupor. His shield deflected it. The spell crashed into the invisible wall around them which shimmered on the contact. Dany's eyes involuntarily went there, and Harry's simple Disarming Charm knocked the wand out of Thompson's hand before he had a choice for a second spell.
People laughed as Dany watched with a gobsmacked expression as his wand flew across the podium and landed in Harry's outstretched hand.
"Duelling one-oh-one," Harry said with a wild grin. "Don't let anything distract you from the duel."
Dany laughed with the others as he took back his wand. "All right, Potter," he said. "I guess I'll have till the end of the year to get back at you for that."
"You can try," Harry said. "I'll be here every Saturday." He patted Dany on the shoulder a few times, before the boy would get off the stage. "That was a good start, though."
"Next time, Potter," He promised with a gleam in his eyes then jumped off the edge and went back to his friends.
Harry straightened. "So, who's next?"
Students in the crowd looked around anxiously, and a wave of excitement rushed through them.
"Why don't we give you a show," Harry suggested, looking down on Wallace, who nodded. Harry's eyes scanned the room until he found Snape again. "Professor Snape," he called with a smug grin, "would you like to try me?"
The Great Hall went deadly quiet for a moment then people started looking around for Snape. Hushed voices tried to guess whether Snape would take up the challenge or not, some went as far as to laugh, some, mostly Slytherins, just seemed to pity Harry for his idiotic bravery.
"What's in it for me, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked not making a move, still leaning against the door legs and arms crossed.
Harry thought for a moment. "Well I'm sure there are still some dried out, dirty cauldrons lying around neglected you would want me to scrub." Most people laughed, but those who had spent detention with Snape only shuddered. "But you've always been creative enough to come up with different tasks that would suit my capabilities, sir."
Harry heard Ron snigger.
"Mr. Potter, do you honestly think I would let you get away with only scrubbing cauldrons?"
Harry gulped. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He knew Severus would not go easy on him and he had more control nowadays. The last fight almost cost him his life and though he trusted Snape enough for that not to happen again, still, this might not be as simple anymore.
"Scared, Potter?" Snape called from the door. His black eyes were gleaming with the unsaid challenge.
Harry could hear the people around them snigger.
"Of you, Professor Snape?" Harry shook his head smiling. "Never, sir."
"Is that so…?" Snape smirked then pushed himself away from the door. The crowd opened up to let him pass as if he would be this great force no one dared stand in the way. He marched across the Great Hall, black robes sailing after him. His footsteps echoed in the dead silence.
When he reached the stage, he shrugged off his outer robe. Some boys whistled while Thomson cried out jokingly, "Aw yeah!"
Harry couldn't help but agree. Snape ignored them and threw his robe to Ron. This looked exciting already.
Snape flicked his wand and stairs grew out of the stage, which he ran up with an elegant ease. The Slytherins cheered loudly, while the others gave a quiet clap.
"You think you can win, Potter?" Snape asked as he stood in front of Harry.
Harry just made a noncommittal shrug but smiled confidently.
"Thinking it isn't enough," said Severus as they bowed to each other. Body still bent, he looked at Harry then hissed in a deep voice, "Prove it."
They twirled on their heels and Wallace started counting. The shimmering globe appeared around them.
"One…"
Harry could feel the apprehension in the air.
"Two…"
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had done this a million times, it was no different.
"Three…"
Harry was casting spells and raising up a shield even before he would face Snape. He shot the spells blindly, not even hoping for a hit. They were nothing more just a distraction. Severus didn't even have to move, he deterred them with a flick of his wand.
Snape was stronger now than during their last duel. Harry felt his spells blast against his shield, and it made him almost lose his stance. From the very beginning, it was far more intense than any other encounter they had. Only, perhaps, those moment could be comparable when their bodies were pressed together, hands touching, lips tasting sweet skin.
They weren't playing around. Harry took a small flame from the candles above him and blew on it. A phoenix rose from his palm, growing ever greater. It flew towards Snape on wings of fire. Snape threw something in air, dust glistened in the light of the glowing bird, then it grew bigger, turned into a small sandstorm that swallowed up the flames.
Harry shot water at it, and mud rained on them. He pointed his wand at the dirty ground and the sludge gathered around Severus' feet, holding him in place like a shackle for a moment. He froze it and the icy muck shuttered, he was free to move again.
"Get him, Professor!" Someone cried.
"I intend to," Snape murmured not taking his eyes off Harry for even a second.
A strange smile flickered over the thin lips and Harry shuddered. He had seen that expression, sitting on a balustrade with Severus between his legs.
A spell busted against the ground near his feet and almost set his legs on fire. Harry shook his head, trying to get every distraction out of his mind.
He touched his wand to the floor, and it shuddered, opened up like the mouth of a beast. Snape jumped away, rolled on the ground and Harry attacked. His curse recoiled from a shimmering blue shield, but another one grazed Snape's cheek. He managed to draw first blood.
Snape stopped, and they circled around the great opening on the stage. Severus wiped the small blood trickling down his face, licked it off his finger.
"Give up?" Harry asked smirking.
"Make me," Snape growled then attacked, his wand cracked like a whip in the air. Harry felt it slash across his right arm, but he managed to get away from the next two.
Snape was wild and it made Harry feel thrilled as well. Every time their magic met in the middle of the stage sparks emerged out of nowhere. Like two feral energy their powers tensed against each other. Each spell like a blast of its own shattered against the glass dome over their heads.
Familiar blue lightning cracked around Snape for a moment then he pulled it in and threw the magic at Harry, who ducked but reached after the ball of energy. He held it on his palm for a second, sensing in the pit of his stomach the coils of warmth Snape's magic always made him feel. He sent it back towards Snape. It blew up in the last minute, but Severus shielded himself from the electricity.
Snape tapped a foot to the ground, which shuddered, and Harry fell to the floor. Snape was standing over him the next moment wand held out, pointing right at Harry. Harry rolled away, and a second later an armour jumped up onto the stage and stood between him and Snape's spell. It shattered into million pieces, but it gave Harry enough time to stand up again.
Snape smirked at him. He was enjoying the fight just as much as Harry. He was slightly sweating, his breathing faster now. Reckless hunger burned in his black eyes as he circled around Harry like a predator would around its prey.
Harry ached to move closer and wipe that smirk off with a kiss.
"You remember what I told you about Intuitive magic, Potter?" Snape asked.
Harry just nodded.
"Well, then," Severus said in a dangerously low voice as he flicked his wand. "Feel. Don't see."
The black, silk blindfold appeared out of nowhere in front of Harry. He could hear Hermione's gasp and a scared murmur from all across the room, but he just smiled up at Severus. He pushed his glasses on top of his head and took the blindfold from the air. He tied it himself, wishing Severus would do it for him, wishing he could feel his hard body press against him.
There was nothing just darkness around. He could hear the indistinctive mumbles from the other students, even pick out Hermione' and Ron's voice, though he couldn't hear what they were saying.
He heard footsteps, Snape's, and he turned towards the noise slightly. He turned and turned, trying to find the source, trying to figure out where the next spell would come from. He heard nothing for a moment, then there was a swish of clothes and sizzling in the air. He ducked and rolled on the ground. He could feel the heat of the spell. The wind it stirred up brushed his hair.
People clapped around them enthusiastically.
"Not bad," Snape commented from behind him and Harry turned right away, pointing his wand.
He shot a spell, missed. He could hear it hit the barrier.
"Feel it with your heart, Harry, not with your other senses."
Harry smiled as he heard his first name. Never did Snape call him that in public. It sent a wave of electricity down his body. The pieces of him in Snape slowly took over.
That reminded him of something. He calmed his thoughts and recalled the blue shimmering magic. He all but heard rumbling thunder, felt the cracks of lightning licking his skin. He could taste the electricity in the air. He focused hard.
He saw the blue light again, just a little to his right. He turned that way, and it moved away. At first it shifted in the air, moved like a ghost, like billowing cloaks, but slowly as Harry concentrated, it solidified. It morphed into a human shape, slowly stepping, moving, quiet like a cat.
Harry became even more focused on the azure shape. The darkness filled up with light. All kinds of lights in fact. It was not just Snape's blue, he could see now all the others' as well. Magic was around him everywhere, stronger and young still, colours of a rainbow.
He focused back onto Snape; he could see the outline of his body, see as the magic pulsed to the rhythm of his heartbeat, see it shimmer inside him, reaching from his heart to his limbs, to the tip of his finger. Harry could hear it calling, whispering, gathering. It was beautiful
You're controlling it. The thought almost slipped out aloud. Look at you, you've done it.
Snape had accepted the excessive magic as his own, he did not fight it anymore. He revelled in its power, Harry could all but feel it. It was magnificent, like watching the calm ocean after a heavy storm. He knew what it meant, but it did not make him sad, he did not let it make him sad.
He could see the magic pulse more and more in Snape's right arm, could see it vibrate as it wanted to break out. He could tell when it would come. Snape flicked his wand, Harry could see the motion, the curse flying across the podium. He blocked the spell easily, sent one in return.
They resumed the fight at a slow pace. A spell and a counter spell, over and over, one by one, until Severus was sure Harry could block anything, and he could duel just as before. Then the fight got heavy again. The air quivered between them, the shimmering globe around them all but burst from the power of their spells, yet they danced away from each other as if it would be just a game.
Harry didn't know when this turned sexual, but it was. Every spell was like a caress, every hit a hard kiss. He shuddered to think what victory would feel like. He jumped and rolled, didn't hold back. He cast spell after spell like a maniac, like Snape, who did the exact same thing, trying to get close, closer, close enough to touch.
It was a fight and it was also a game. It was desire poured into spells, and it was thirst for dominance. It was playful, teasing just like the last week had been. They were tantalizingly close, almost there, almost touching, yet still far away that no one would notice. It was unrestrained, it was perfect and Harry's whole body buzzed with tension that wanted to break out.
One second to the other, Snape was behind him, he could feel only his magic at first then a firm body pressed against him, while a wand dug into his throat. He could hear the gasp from people, even though his mind screamed in need.
"You feel that?" Snape asked pressing his lower body against Harry. His voice was low, his breathing hard and Harry felt just as aroused as the body behind him.
"It's hard to miss," Harry grinned turning his head slightly towards to blue light he saw from the corner of his eyes.
"Hard indeed," Snape growled.
He could hear the smug smile, see it almost, then he was pushed away. Snape attacked again and Harry loved every second of it. He ducked, leaned away and fought back, vicious, wild, wanting, desperately in need.
They stopped inches from each other, wand in the other's face. They were mirroring the other's stance, one foot forward, arm reached out, wand held steady in hand. Harry tore off the blindfold, and grinned up at Snape.
The man was sweaty and panting and all Harry could think of was that he wanted him on a bed looking just like this.
"Proved your point?" Harry asked breathing fast and hard.
"What point would that be?" Snape whispered quietly enough that no one could hear them
"That even if I close my eyes, I still see you?" Harry answered with a coy smile.
Severus just huffed then squatted and kicked Harry's feet from under him. Harry fell to the ground, didn't even bother getting up. He dropped his wand and remained there, trying to catch his breath.
Snape was looking down on him, intense black eyes drank in the sight of his dishevelled body and Harry didn't need Legilimency to know what the man was thinking.
People started clapping, slowly at first, as if not believing it was over then faster and faster until cries and whistles joined in, too. Harry lifted his head and saw a lot more people than the thirty or so they started with.
Snape held out a hand and when Harry grasped it, a shot of electricity passed through him, healing most of his injuries, before Snape would pull him up.
"How did you say it, Potter…" Snape murmured, thoughtful for a moment. "Ah yes, duelling one-oh-one: don't let anything distract you from the duel."
Harry laughed out. "I deserved that," he grinned.
"No, Mr. Potter," Snape said very quietly, as they bowed to each other. "You deserve something else."
Severus jumped off the stage without another word. He took his outer robe from Ron and stormed out of the Great Hall. Harry looked after him, his blood still boiling.
"That was excellently done, Harry" Wallace beamed at him. "I don't know if I have ever seen someone adjust to his instincts this quickly before."
"Remarkable, indeed, Mr. Potter," Flitwick agreed. "You should compete!"
Harry thanked them then jumped off the stage. People were slowly mingling out of the room while the professors reorganized the table and chairs.
"Harry, that was amazing!" Hermione cried, dragging him away from the crowd. "The way you two moved! I didn't know you can duel that well. This was incredible!"
"Yeah, mate it was like you weren't even fighting, but dancing." Ron said in awe. "Like you knew exactly what the other would do. It was…epic!"
"And hot," Hermione noted with a little blush.
"Yeah, weirdly hot," Ron grunted. "I never want to get turned on by Snape again."
Harry laughed. "I don't know what you're talking about," he grinned recalling the sensation of Snape's body pressing against him from behind.
They waited for everyone to leave, then lingered around for a little while, as Harry told them about what it felt like to do magic blindfolded. When the Great Hall emptied, they headed out too. There was no one on the corridors, everyone seemed to have rushed back to their Common Room to tell about the duel they had seen.
Harry was listening to Ron and Hermione when he heard the footsteps. He didn't have to turn around to know who was behind them. The footsteps drew near, and Snape strode past him, eyes straight ahead.
He went to a classroom, pushed open the door that banged against the wall, and never closed.
An unsaid invitation.
"Well, I guess, I'll catch up with you guys in a bit…" Harry said to his friends, taking a deep breath.
"If you can still walk…" Ron murmured with a grin.
Harry walked in the Transfiguration classroom and the door closed behind him with a quiet click. Snape stood on his right, his eyes on the ground for a moment, lingering as he thought what to do next.
Harry touched his arm gently. "That was great…" He said with a soft tone.
Fingers intertwined with his and he was push up against the wall. Severus lifted both his hands over his head. Harry gasped with excitement. Arousal filled up his veins.
Snape leaned in close. "You make me lose my inhibitions." He growled. "You are a danger to me. Why do I still want you so bad? Why am I…"
Black eyes roamed his face as if the answer was written onto Harry's forehead or cheeks.
Harry swallowed heavily. He couldn't tear his eyes away from those thin lips. His tense body throbbed with need to be touched.
Snape gripped him firmly, almost crushing Harry's finger.
"If it wouldn't be your first time," he hissed, his hot breath tickling Harry's lips, "I would ravish you right now. Here, against a door, standing like animals. I'd make you scream, I'd bruise you, ruin you. You destroyed me, Harry Potter. And when you are gone, you will leave me in torn pieces scattered in the sky. I know that, but I will still give you want you want."
"I won't leave you," Harry grunted. "Ever."
"You will only hurt me, but I want the pain. Why do I put myself through this? Why do I want to suffer? What curse are you to shackle me to your body like I am this weak, helpless creature? I flailed in a cage, wings broken, and you did not just open the door, you tore the bars apart. You tossed me in the sky to fly but I am only falling ever since."
"Severus…" Harry whimpered tensing against the strong hold, trying to get free, to push close, to have more, more, more.
"I plunge deeper and deeper into a bottomless darkness and it swallows me up, but I cannot run away. I do not want to run. I want to fall. I want to crash. Against you. With you."
"Yes," Harry moaned. "Yes, Severus… please."
Lips pressed against his mouth, this kiss was more of a battle then their duel had been. Harry was let go, his fingers fisted in Snape's long, soft hair. Hands slid down on his back, pressing down hard then grabbed his arse. He was hoisted up the next moment, and he put his legs around Snape's slim waist. They fell against the door, firm body pressed against him.
"I want you too much." Snape grunted.
"Make me come," Harry begged into the kiss, hips thrusting rolling, rocking back and forth.
"Tonight," Snape said, sinful lips sucked on Harry's throat.
"Now." Harry demanded.
Severus obviously couldn't resist him. He pushed forward, seeking contact. He ground their bodies, fucked Harry against to door. They both whimpered and groaned. Heavy breathing filled Harry's mind. He clutched the black robes, all but tore at Severus' hair. It wouldn't take long.
He cried out, Severus swallowed it hungrily. Harry kissed him he didn't let go, clung to Severus wanting to feel with every inch of his body as Snape shattered too, shuddering, grunting.
Soon, too soon, he was gently let go. Obsidian eyes looked over him, but Harry barely registered it. His mind was still in a sweet haze. He more like felt than saw the cleaning charm that brushed over his wet jeans. He moaned, still too sensitive.
"Fly by tonight." Snape said, voice rough, low, promising. Harry could barely stand; his legs were shaking so bad. "We'll have a cigarette."