Choosing Loyalties 1/2

Severus was woken by a house-elf at six thirty in the morning. Still half asleep he went to his workrooms to see to a number of potions he'd been commissioned to brew for either the Order or Voldemort. As he passed the benches Harry had appropriated over the past years his lips formed a small smile and his habitual scowl lessened. At seven forty five he had a quick shower and got dressed for breakfast in the Great Hall from eight until eight thirty with the rest of the staff.

His colleagues had long ago learnt not to bother the dour Potions master in the mornings, although Albus happily ignored Severus' fierce scowl and pointed barbs. Ever since Voldemort's return Albus insisted that Severus sit next to him at mealtimes. It was no use trying to argue with the Headmaster, and even if Severus would never admit it, he enjoyed Albus' conversation and inane chatter.

On days that Severus felt particularly drained Albus would smile at him and brush his fingers over Severus', his touch lingering just a little longer than appropriate when he asked Severus to pass the salt. His hand would briefly rest on Severus thigh, or he'd push a lock of Severus' now glossy hair behind his ear. Severus would accompany the Headmaster to his office after breakfast; they would walk arm in arm even though Albus hardly needed the support. But Severus relished the quiet intimacy, the companionship, and he experienced it as the promise it was. A promise of more, of again, of this time he would not be discarded.

Severus fit as much grading and prep work as he could in between lessons, in every spare moment he could find, however few they were. During classes he would attempt to teach ungrateful, unappreciative brats the subtle art of Potions. At least his Slytherins knew better than to come unprepared and they did well enough. In a way he was grateful for his teaching; it allowed him to vent his anger and frustration on the annoying, incompetent, arrogant little bastards. It wasn't the same without Potter, but just having Longbottom in his class provided sufficient ammunition to torment them all.

Thankfully Harry was not in any of his ordinary classes, he wouldn't have been able to teach Harry that way. He didn't know what he would have done. His time with Harry, often lunch hours spent together in his private workrooms – the both of them were fiddling around with their own projects and helping each other – were brief snatches of peace and contentment. It was different from his time with Albus, but no less treasured.

Before dinner, Severus would work his way through all the work he could, because invariably before he had finished desert the Dark Mark would flare up causing him to grimace in pain and clutch his arm. He'd make his excuses, he had long ago made a deal with Filch for the caretaker to oversee all his detentions, and hurry to his chambers to grab cloak and mask. Severus would hurry down now oft used corridors, along hidden paths into the Forbidden Forest where he would apparate to Riddle Mansion.

Voldemort would either be in his library with Nagini, researching something he kept securely secret from Severus' discrete snooping, or the Dark Lord would be downstairs in one of the large rooms holding court with various Death Eaters. Severus would wait until he was acknowledged, in the meantime his eyes and ears open and registering every detail, every snippet of conversation. Then he'd give Voldemort the potions he'd ordered and Voldemort would dismiss the others so that they could talk in private.

"How is Harry doing? Is he well?"

The same question every time and Severus would answer honestly, filling the Dark Lord in on Harry's latest adventures. He got an A in Transfiguration; he made Seeker on the Gryffindor team; he has made friends with a number of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs; his Potions experiments are doing well; he improved the Wolfsbane potion; he is spending the summer at Hogwarts again; he has a girlfriend, a Ravenclaw by the name of Cho Chang; Gryffindor beat Slytherin; Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw; he is keeping his distance from Albus Dumbledore; he has a boyfriend, a Hufflepuff by the name of Justin Finch-Fletchly; he has to serve two weeks of detention with Filch for hexing one of his fellow Gryffindors (Ron Weasley); he has to serve one week of detention for hexing one of the Slytherins (Draco Malfoy); he is cheating on his boyfriend with Virginia Weasley; Gryffindor beat Hufflepuff; he fought with his godfather again; he spends most of his time in the library with his study group; he has a girlfriend, a Hufflepuff by the name of Susan Bones; his NEWT preparations are coming along well; he's had an offer from a Quidditch club to fly for them once he's graduated; he's sleeping with Draco Malfoy, but using a mild memory charm to prevent the Slytherin from telling anyone; he got an A in Arithmancy.

Voldemort would listen and his face would not betray a thought. When Severus was finished he'd sit there petting Nagini, talking to her in Parseltongue, probably discussing their wayward charge's exploits. Invariably after a while Voldemort would shoo Nagini from the room, or take Severus somewhere else, and they'd fuck.

Voldemort would bend him over the couch, the table, press him against the wall and fuck him roughly from behind, biting his neck and clawing at his side. Severus would fall to his knees and suck the Dark Lord as Voldemort played with his hair until he grunted and came down Severus' throat. The Dark Lord would rest against the headboard of his bed and lazily stroke his cock as Severus fucked himself on his own fingers, his wand, before finally being allowed to lower himself onto Voldemort's cock and bring the powerful wizard to climax. Severus abased himself and worshipped Voldemort's body. Severus would be left begging for release, begging for pity, and he would cry in gratitude when Voldemort, in his mercy, let him come. Voldemort's pleasure was paramount, but Severus could not deceive himself: he enjoyed the sex, and in a way looked forward to being called, to being touched and fucked and used and pleasured.

Afterwards, Voldemort would dismiss him and Severus only dared to cast a cleaning charm when he reappeared in the Forbidden Forest. But he could still feel the Dark Lord's touch, could still taste Voldemort's come on his tongue and feel it warm inside him. Shivering, he would make his way along hidden paths and now oft used corridors to the Headmaster's study. Humiliation and self-disgust and loathing rising within him as he was subjected to the Pensieveritaserum each and every time, forced to relive every sordid detail of his weakness, his shame, in front of the one man he had ever trusted.

Afterwards, Severus would clench his hands to fists and bite back the bitter remarks. But then Albus would pull him close, would whisper in his ear he was forgiven, that Albus understood his sacrifice and wished it weren't necessary. Albus would gently touch his cheek, uncurl Severus' fists and entwine their hands. And then he would press his lips to Severus in a chaste kiss, making Severus' ache in need for Albus' tenderness and love, before whispering in Severus' ear, telling him it was late and time for bed.

The castle was cold and if the students knew what was best for them they made sure they never bumped into the Potions master as he slowly made his way through the corridors to his dungeon quarters. Weary to the bone, tired in his soul, Severus entered his chambers and looked at the clock. One in the morning. And he still had to brew damned Lupin's Wolfsbane. A note on his desk made him pause on his way to his workrooms.

'Hi Severus, don't worry about Remus' potion: I finished it this evening and gave it to him. Sweet dreams, Harry.'

Severus picked up the small vial of baby blue liquid next to the note. He peeled away the stopper, recognizing Harry's seal, and smelled the sweet potion. A small part of the tension inside him relaxed and Severus smiled. Discarding cloak, mask and robes on the floor he crawled into his empty bed, drank the potion and fell asleep with the vial in his hand.

*~*

It was reasonably early on Friday evening when Severus finally made his way back to his quarters. The fact that it was still before midnight did not mean the Potions master was any less tired. Classes had been a disaster, two exploded cauldrons and a classroom that had to be thoroughly cleaned (non-magically) before it could be used again. Combining Slytherin and Gryffindor for Potions was insanity. A nasty smile briefly graced Severus lips; he'd assigned nearly all of the Gryffindor seventh years to detention this weekend as punishment for Longbottom's incompetence. Filch would make sure the brats rid his classroom of every last glob of the magic neutralizer. Mr Malfoy had been suitably dressed down (in private, not in front of the Gryffindors of course) and all Hogsmeade privileges revoked.

Severus grimaced and rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the ever lurking headache. He snorted in bitter amusement and rolled his shoulders. When he stretched his back, he grimaced at the aches all through his body his visit to Voldemort had left him with. The ache in his soul lingering from his debriefing with Albus was not much better. The shame and humiliation of having Albus witness what he did with Voldemort was made worse by Albus' forgiving touches and words. There was at least one positive side to the Headmaster's preoccupation with the more carnal aspects of his meetings with Voldemort: it had enabled him to find a way around the Pensieveritaserum. Using his skills at Occlumency he'd been able to separate a few memories and a little knowledge and by ignoring it, and instead actively trying to hide the memories of Voldemort fucking him, he focused Albus' attention on his abasement so that the Headmaster would not notice the small part of his mind he kept private. It was not much he was keeping hidden, not much that he could without arousing suspicion, but enough to maintain his sanity.

Whispering the password to his rooms Severus wistfully contemplated taking a long hot bath. Cleaning spells only did so much, and he imagined he could still feel Voldemort's hands on him, his seed within him, as well as Albus' touch and gentle kisses. Both his masters reinforcing the lesson that his body was not his own, his mind was not this own, his life was not his own. But if he bathed in his current state he'd probably fall asleep and drown. Sleep. It was Saturday tomorrow, the weekend. He could only hope that Voldemort did not call him early as he sometimes did. But even if he didn't there was work to do, potions to make for Poppy, and poisons for Dumbledore and Voldemort.

"Severus."

He was halfway to his bedroom when the voice made him look up and he saw Harry sitting in his chair by the fire. He hadn't even noticed his apprentice. Severus managed a tired smile and changed direction, dropping gracelessly onto the couch – so tired – but he always had time for Harry. So tired, but he was still grateful for the boy, the young man's presence.

"Harry. How are your NEWT preparations coming along?"

"Good, Transfiguration sucks, but what's new?" Harry set aside the book he'd been studying and indicated the tea set out on the table. "Or would you like something else?"

Severus shook his head. "No, thank you." He'd had enough tea during his debriefing with Albus to last him a lifetime. They were silent and Severus revelled in the peace Harry's presence brought. Harry, who was just there, did not demand anything from him, just wanted to spend time with him. If nothing else, at least Voldemort's return had brought him Harry.

"You look tired."

He nodded and closed his eyes. Merlin, he was exhausted, had been feeling exhausted for what felt like years now. There was a sound and he reluctantly opened his eyes again to watch Harry walk over to him with a determined look on his face. Amused, he raised an eyebrow as Harry settled himself on the couch next to Severus, legs pulled up beneath him and an intent furrow in his brow.

"You should relax a little," he said decisively. Severus' eyebrow went up even higher, a tired and amused smile forming on his lips.

"Oh?"

Harry nodded and reached out to push a lock of Severus' glossy black hair behind an ear. His hand stayed where it was and gently stroked Severus' cheek. Knowing he shouldn't, knowing he should put a stop to this right now, Severus leaned into the touch. "Yes."

Severus had lost track of their conversation, all he could concentrate on was the sight of Harry slowly leaning into him. Harry's lips neared his own and Harry's bright green eyes hypnotized him. Severus' lips parted in anticipation, a noiseless sigh.

"Is this all right?" Harry paused at the last moment, his lips so close that Severus could feel the whisper of the young man's breath against his mouth as he talked. He didn't answer, instead just leaned forward and closed the distance, finally, finally kissing Harry. He'd not allowed himself to want this, to want him, for so long.

They kissed open-mouthed, their lips touching and briefly catching each other, the briefest touch of tongue. Severus' eyes were open and he stared into Harry's green eyes, watched the boy close his eyes and smile. Harry pressed their lips together, darted his tongue into Severus' mouth. Tongues tangled and played, and Severus did not close his eyes. He had to see, had to know this was real. Harry opened his eyes again, and Severus was briefly reminded of Voldemort. But there were crinkles around Harry's eyes, a suppressed smile that reached his eyes nonetheless.

"Harry." Harry swallowed his sigh, coaxed his tongue into following it back into Harry's mouth. A moment of doubt, could Harry taste Albus and was he repulsed? Could Harry taste Voldemort and was that who Harry was really kissing? But he ruthlessly suppressed those thoughts and closed his eyes as Harry's mouth left his and wandered over his cheek to his ear. "Severus."

Severus brought his hands up and rested them on Harry's shoulders, moved them down his arms, his chest, touching him. It was real, this was Harry, it was really happening. They moved on the couch, Severus onto his back lying down as Harry slid one leg between his thighs and rested his weight on his arms to either side of Severus' body.

"Is this all right?" Severus just nodded, pressing light kisses to the side of Harry's face. They moved again so that Severus was on his side against the back of the couch, warm and safe with Harry in front of him. His eyes were still closed, he was so tired he didn't think he could open them again, but it didn't matter. He could hear Harry's sighs; he could smell that distinct scent that was just Harry; he could feel Harry's body against his, Harry's hands slipping into and beneath Severus' robes; he could taste him as Harry brought their lips together again. Severus ran one hand through Harry's hair, holding his head cradled to keep their mouths together – not that Harry made any moves to stop kissing him. When air became an issue they would resume their open-mouthed, nipping kisses.

He leaned into the touch of Harry's hand as it moved down his chest and then drew small circles on his stomach. There was a chuckle in his ear when he nearly purred with contentment. "Harry," he sighed. Severus copied Harry's movements, although unable to burrow into the younger man's clothes in his exhausted state, and he traced Seeker hard muscle through the cloth. Then he moved his hand further south and palmed the hard erection pressing against the constraints of Harry's robes. Harry bucked up into the loose grip before fastening his mouth to Severus' again and ravishing him, grinding against him. Severus groaned and massaged Harry's cock. Harry moved the hand on Severus' stomach downward to grasp Severus' limp prick.

Severus froze and opened eyelids that still felt weighted down with lead. Only now did Severus realise the absence of his own arousal; he'd been too preoccupied with the joy of Harry here, Harry touching him, kissing him, to focus on his own body's lack of response. Voldemort's summons had of course included sex, right after a report on how Harry was doing in school. Severus did not have the teenage body the Dark Lord had, and Voldemort had already taken all Severus could give that night. Harry must be aware of that. He opened his mouth to say 'it's all right', 'it doesn't matter', 'you can still have me; you can use me like that'. Even though it was not what he wanted from Harry, wanted with Harry. But it didn't matter in the end; he would give Harry anything he wanted. The nagging, bitter voice of self-loathing in his mind reminded him that his body was still relaxed, would easily receive another after all Voldemort had done to him tonight. Not that this was any different from all the other nights he'd been summoned by Voldemort.

"It's all right. It doesn't matter." Harry was whispering in his ear, tracing his face with kisses as his hand moved from Severus' quiescent cock to rest on his hip instead. "There's no rush. You're tired, you need to sleep. Sleep."

Severus couldn't keep his eyes open any longer to save his life. He gripped Harry's clothes, tried to hold onto him, not wanting to let him escape.

"Stay."

"Shh, Severus. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you wake up. Sleep, Severus. Somnus."

*~*

When Severus woke up it was late in the morning and he was naked. He was naked and pressed against an equally naked Harry. All of a sudden it didn't matter that he'd overslept and consequently a number of potions had been ruined. He revelled in the feeling of a for once well-rested body. The dungeons were always cold, no matter the time of day or year, but he was snug and warm in this little cocoon of peace he shared with Harry and he was not about to get up and leave this haven.

Harry had rested his head on Severus' chest and slung one arm around the Potions master, holding him like some overgrown stuffed toy. It had been so long since he'd shared a bed with Harry, and then he'd always felt guilty and ashamed. Not to mention the fact that Voldemort slept between them. Severus wondered if he still did. They never talked about the Dark Lord, and Severus had no idea how Harry felt about Tom Riddle. He ran a hand down Harry's back, gently stroking his skin. Harry sighed and snuggled closer, pressing his morning erection against Severus' thigh; Severus felt himself respond equally.

"Hmmm, Severus. Are you awake?"

Severus smiled and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead. "I am. Are you?"

"Oh, definitely." Slitted green eyes looked up at him, sparkling with mischief. "I'm up, and so, it would seem, are you."

Harry moved himself up Severus' body a few inches and kissed his lips, insinuating one leg between Severus' and pressing it against the Potions master's rapidly awakening cock. They kissed for a while, until Severus rolled them over, pinning Harry beneath him.

"What about Mr Malfoy? I distinctly remember you going out with him."

Harry made a face and waved his hand briefly. "Draco? Broke up with him; Ginny didn't want to share anymore."

Severus raised an eyebrow and Harry laughed before pulling Severus down for more kisses.

"Don't worry, Severus. I'm not bored; you don't think I'd use you like that? I want this, I want you. If you want me, that is."

"Of course I want you, silly boy." And that was enough talking. Severus didn't want to think about Harry's possible motives for doing this. He knew he could trust him; he would not doubt Harry, would not doubt or question this gift.

They moved against each other. He brought Harry's hand down between them, curled it together with his around both their straining erections. Harry tangled his other hand in Severus' hair while Severus kept his weight on his other arm. They kissed, the pace suddenly picking up until Harry gasped and came. Severus watched the details of Harry's face raptly as it contorted in pleasure; the brief look of surprise and the way his eyelids fluttered as he slowly came down. Not taking his eyes off the young man Severus steadily moved in Harry's loosened grasp, hand slick with semen. Then Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Severus with the most beautiful smile Severus had ever seen. "Severus." It was a sigh, but enough to send Severus over the edge. His rhythm stuttered as he came, mixing his release with Harry's, warm and sticky between them.

Gracelessly he collapsed and then rolled to the side, his weight off the younger wizard. Harry moved with him, putting his arms around Severus' neck as Severus put his arms around Harry. Neither made a move to clean up or cast a spell, something for which Severus was grateful. He'd begun to hate the sudden loss of warmth, the cold detachment of cleaning spells.

"I think I'll sleep here from now on," Harry murmured against his neck and Severus ran his hands through Harry's unruly black hair.

"That would be nice, but they'd notice." Severus couldn't help himself from briefly entertaining that fantasy, of always waking up to Harry in his bed. It was nice, if entirely unrealistic. Merlin, both sides would kill him for this.

He must have said that out loud because Harry moved back a little so he could look at Severus. "I'll protect you. I won't let anybody harm you, Severus. Neither of them."

Severus smiled and pressed a brief kiss to Harry's scar. "Thank you."

Harry frowned suspiciously and nodded. "I mean it." Then he squirmed to find a comfortable position and they ended up the same way Severus had awoken to: his arms around Harry as Harry rested half on him, his head on Severus' chest. He trailed a hand through the hair on Severus' chest, tugging at it gently and then drawing patterns around one nipple. Severus closed his eyes and shivered.

"Was this why you took me away from Tom?"

Severus opened his eyes again, but Harry was grinning. "Admit it, you were jealous." His lips twitched, it always amazed him how Harry could discuss such things in a light manner. Because it was a serious question, one that he'd sometimes asked himself in darker moments. Had his desire to remove Harry from Voldemort's influence been purely from selfish motivations? Had he desired Harry then as well? Although admittedly Harry was still extremely young, certainly compared to the more than forty years Severus now counted.

"I never thanked you for it," Harry said, and this time his voice was contemplative. "I know why you did it, and I'm grateful. This way I could make up my own mind, if I'd stayed with Tom… I would never have known otherwise, never have been able to make a choice. You gave me that choice, thank you."

Severus didn't ask whether Harry had already made his choice, he was pretty sure the boy hadn't. And it didn't matter; at least the boy was free to make up his own mind. Severus was envious of that freedom, but didn't want to think of his own situation. In this moment with Harry he was free. He'd slept with the Boy-Who-Lived, with Voldemort's favourite, and that act of defiance gave him a sense of freedom in itself.

"If we stay like this much longer we'll be stuck together," and what wouldn't Severus give to never let Harry go? "Will you join me in the shower?"

"How about we take a bath instead, I'm sure there're lots of fun things we can do." The mischief was back in Harry's eyes and he ran one finger along Severus' sensitive prick. Which was perking up and showing an interest. Oh well, Voldemort didn't require that he be able to 'perform', and he was a Potions master after all.