Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 02 : A Bit Of All Right
by I Got Tired of Waiting

Part I : Severus
Chapter Nine : The Book

Friday : 20 June 2003

"So, you never told him?" Cerise asked him, her tea long forgot in the excitement.

Severus sighed, the hour late. "No, the next morning when he woke, he was feeling much better and remembered only the beginning part of the evening before," he chuckled, "except he was curious why I still had all my clothes on."

She laughed merrily, "What did you tell him?"

"I don't really recall," he yawned, "I just remember I took my time distracting him from further questions."

Laughing at his meaning, she asked, "And everything was fine afterwards?"

"As well as any relationship goes. We never spoke of it again and I think he assumed that the potion was either unnecessary or had done the job on its own." He covered another huge yawn, his eyes tearing. "I'm sorry Cerise, I really must be off to bed."

She nodded, "Of course Severus, it really is quite late. Thank you for your lovely tale--it explains much to me." She tilted her head at him, considering. "You know, you worry too much. With everything you told me tonight, I think you're making too much out of it. Certainly too much to have stopped eating and sleeping." At his noise of protest, she harumphed. "Don't try and fool me. You've obviously lost weight and your insomnia lately is becoming the thing of legend. And while I am grateful you stopped to talk to me, I am thinking you really need to go."

"Very well. I am sorry I haven't been by to see you more often," he said chagrined.

"Severus, had I wanted that much company I could have either requested a livelier spot or could go 'visiting', even to you, you're not that far away. No, the Nirvana of a former Madame is quiet solitude and the choice of whom I see and when and in what manner."

"I could just move you," he offered, standing.

As he levitated the bench back to the end of the corridor and raised her painting back to where it had been, she replied, "That's very sweet, Severus, but no, I am quite content where I am. Although, I do expect an up-date from you as soon as you resolve your situation." She tilted her head, "Or if you need to talk again. I'm ever here, my friend."

He turned to face her again. "I promise, Cerise." He stood close to her portrait on the wall and ran his fingers lightly down the side of her pictured face.

"It's never the same is it?" she asked, sobering at her inability to touch her lonely friend. She blew him a kiss. "Now go--and be happy."

With one final, grateful gaze, he turned around in a swirl of robes and was gone.

****

Despite his talk with Cerise, he realised he was no closer to a solution than before. Certainly, his commitment to working it out with Harry was stronger, and he felt better than when he'd started; however, he was still wandering the halls wondering what he'd done wrong, when they had gone wrong. He was full of doubts about things that had been blazingly obvious to him only weeks before.

'Didn't he know I would always be there for him, no matter what demons followed us? I never doubted his sincerity in the matter, but was I plain enough?' There had been (and still were) nights when Harry awakened from nightmares, some newer, others older and deep. Severus was always there to love the shakes away with tight arms and sultry voice just as Harry was there for him with soft strokes and wanton lips when his dreams turned ugly. They both had grim memories; they never had to explain, it was always understood. And their loving, for Severus rarely thought of it as just sex, whether bold and playful, or soft and slow, reflected a deep unwillingness to harm each other; they'd already suffered enough.

His path back to their rooms took him past the door to the Astronomy Tower, but he knew Harry was not there tonight, even if it was still his favorite place to think. Severus tried to remember when the problem first began; the change was so gradual he almost concluded there really was no beginning.

'No, wait--I think it may have all started with that thrice-damned paper, two years ago! That was my second mistake, I never should have let the matter drop.' He shook his head, angry at himself, convinced he'd found the beginning.

It was almost a relief he could now pinpoint when it started--when his potions paper had been published. He hadn't been blind to Harry's unwillingness to discuss it and had felt the deep seated inadequacy he was displaying. Severus had railed at Albus for even bringing it up. Harry's response had been mixed. He could tell Harry was truly pleased with his accomplishment, which had made him happy. However, he could sense the unease as well. He didn't know what was wrong there, but he'd down-played the whole incident as best he could until he'd thought the problem had gone away. 'I should have confronted him with it, but it's too late to do so now. Damn!'

'Our relationship is waning. Harry's distracted.' Severus was miserable. 'Harry is absent a lot, not at his school, but his broom is missing. Where can he be? The only indication I have that he has been home at all is his mail disappears every few days from his desk.'

What else was he to think? 'Since he picks up his mail, maybe I should write him?' He couldn't bring himself to do it; it felt too much like begging. He was not too sure how much of his pride he could give up to get Harry back and this was at the heart of his problem.

However, upon further reflection, it turned out he had a bigger problem. While there was a small, quiet part of him loving Harry enough to let him go, if that was what he truly wanted, there was also a larger, fiercer, possessive part of him willing to release him only over his dead body. With Voldemort and Draco gone, the odds of that happening anytime soon had decreased dramatically.

He'd had a conundrum and finally, as a compromise, the two halves of him decided that if Harry wanted to try new things, then the least Severus could do was to see what was 'new'. That had been last month. He'd gone to the library, only to find out the books there were centuries older than he was; he felt positively contemporary after flipping through the pages. A trip to the central library in London had proved wasted as well.

Not clear on what to do next, he went to some of the more discreet 'Adult Wizard' shops he knew of and perused the shelves there. He was of a mixed opinion on what he found. Some were anatomically impossible, some required more magic than he was willing to perform on his or anyone else's naked anatomy, and some were just--squidgey. It didn't help that he wasn't even sure what he was looking for. 'Rather like looking for a lame duck in a pond full of them; you just don't know which one you want until it settles on dry land.'

He did find hundreds of books on lubricants--"101 Tubes of Lubes", positions--"A Bottom's View of the Top" or the ever popular "Kama Sutra - The Many Heads of Shiva", multiple partners--"How to Menage Your Trois", techniques--"The Reluctant Lover--Make Him Come", Animagus--"Doggie Style--A Wizard's Best Friend" not to be outdone by "Snakes in the Grass" or "Rim Jobs by Your Aardvark Lover", accessories--"The Creative use of Testicle Cuffs", and bondage--"Why the Muggles Love Duct Tape". However, given his and Harry's mutual agreement, most of it was useless (although he was amused when ten of the "101 Lubes" had been his creations.)

He also tried going to a few of the clubs available, thinking he would see something that might give him a clue as to what someone as young as Harry might want. Other than nursing a few hangovers the following mornings and doctoring the headaches from the loud, obtrusive music, he came away empty handed. He chuckled, 'Didn't even get a pick-up.' Not that he minded too much--the gyrations he'd seen on the dance floor resembled nothing less than a manic St. Vidas' Dance.

A couple of wild forays into Muggle London did nothing but convince him he didn't want to do it anymore. He'd dodged a thin young man in a poet's shirt and tight leather pants in the aisles of one of the stores who, taking a fancy to him, thought his robes positively medieval. He was disquieted by the displays and the sordid melancholy of the whole thing. Suddenly his stodgy lifestyle had greater appeal.

The propositioning prostitutes with their unhealthy pallor and lewd suggestions on how he should spend his gold, contrasted strongly against the almost genteel protection Cerise had afforded the hard-working men and women of her establishment. It had not taken him long to realise that many of these Muggles he'd met were drugged as well, which made him angry for some reason. He'd felt unclean and decided the Muggles were not as well off as they thought if they could allow any human being to drop out of life so easily.

Many of the happenings he witnessed made him very glad he didn't live there on a permanent basis and the rest confused him. Although he realised, with a smirk, he'd finally found some toys (as they were called) for all of Arthur Weasley's collected but unused batteries.

Then, night before last, a discreet advertisement in one of the publications he'd picked up in Knockturn Alley caught his eye. It was a book. A book about fellatio.

50 Ways to Give Oral Pleasure and Other Answers About Oral Sex
(For the Discriminating Male)

On a whim, Severus tried to imagine just how many ways there really were to give a blow-job, depending on technique and position. After about five or six, he decided there might be something to be learned here, so with quill in hand, he'd ordered the book. The service said it would arrive in a plain brown wrapper; he'd paid the extra Galleon for Express Owl. That was yesterday. The book should be here any time today.

He knew one of Harry's favorite things was a good gobble. If he truly wanted Harry to relax and enjoy himself or he was up for a spot of pleasant torture, all he had to do was take him in his mouth and Harry was putty in his hands, so to speak. And while he'd never complained about Severus' technique, 'Quite the opposite in fact, if his enthusiastic noises are to be believed,' Severus decided this was something he might learn more about that wouldn't require him to be younger than he was and might prove enjoyable for both of them. Besides, he liked giving head and was curious.

Taking the stairs down into the dungeons, he resolved that the next time he saw Cerise, he would tell her about his other adventures as well.