Possession

Harry seemed the model student after the incident in the woods. The next day in class he completed an almost perfect potion. However as he left the classroom he let slip one of his inevitable remarks to Hermione that showed he knew nothing of what he was doing. Jokingly thanking his friend for helping him pass Potions. Harry still held her notebook open to today's potion. The boy had been using his classmate's notes. Damn. He had hoped to avoid this and there was resignation in his tone when he called out, "Potter, a word." The boy reluctantly went forward to Snape's desk.

"I do not approve of you using Mrs. Granger's notes in my class. She is not your partner in potions and to use her notes would be cheating. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir" Harry said, clearly relieved the subject stayed on the class and not last night.

"Also" Snape continued, and Harry's face fell. "There are certain things that I need to discuss with you. Consequences for your actions earlier..." Harry started to panic. The clock struck, he was late for his next class. "We will continue this conversation later. Report to my office after your classes."

"I have quidditch today, Sir."

"Very well, what time is practice over?"

"9 o'clock"

"Report to my office at 9:30. You are dismissed."

Harry ran to his next class, quickly apologizing for being late. He lost himself in his thoughts. "Shit. Alone with Snape at night? If I don't do anything stupid I just might survive. Wonder what he wears to bed?...No, damnit. He's going to kill me. I know it. I'm going to be chained up in some dark dungeon and forgotten about by friends and and...I don't know...tortured or something? Severus would look so sexy with a whip. Gods I need to stop doing this. Maybe I should just sleep with Hermione or Ron or something. Or Draco. Yeah. Gods I need to get laid." He rested his head on his desk.

Snape didn't bother to leave his classroom for lunch. He just sat there with his head in his hands; unaware how his pose matched that of his student. The boy had such potential if only he wasn't such a fucking idiot, he sighed to himself. He simply would not apply himself in class. Honestly, he was not attracted to the boy. Where had that thought crept in? Damn. If he didn't care about the boy's looks then why did he have to repeat it to himself over and over? The boy. Remember that, he chided himself.

(author's note here: ok well as much as this seems to take place in first year I actually want Harry to be about 17 in this fic, I'll go back and fix it later but just so you know he is NOT 11!)

Hardly a boy anymore, almost 18. Damnit. He had tried his type before, kind and...he stopped himself. He was thinking of James. Well, he was attracted to the boy because he reminded him of his father. What of it? He wasn't going to do anything about it but he thought he'd see where this was going. He certainly didn't need a lover, which reminded him...he'd have to tell Lucius not to come tonight; he had to meet with Harry. How he wished he could reschedule it.

The day passed quickly for Harry and before he knew it he was at quidditch practice. He decided to work himself to death at practice. He dreamed less then. But his meeting with Snape. Well he'd just take a fucking cold shower like Fred and George said and try to get out of his office without being murdered.

Next hour one of the first years blew up his cauldron full of acid and Snape had to spend several hours cleaning up the mess so it wouldn't eat through the floors and drip into Filtch's office. As amusing as that would be. By five o'clock Severus had completely forgotten about his meeting with Harry, and when Lucius appeared in his bedroom at seven, it was the last thing on his mind.

Harry got out of his shower and got dressed to go to his meeting, taking as long as possible until he had to leave. Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be found, studying or screwing or whatever they did when he wasn't around. Somehow he suspected one of the above. Ron wasn't all that creative.

Earlier that evening: Lucius had appeared in Snape's room wearing red leather pants, and black mesh shirt, with a box by his feet and whip in hand. Snape looked up from his books and a muscle in his jaw visibly jumped and his tongue unconsciously wet his bottom lip. "I had thought you would like it." Lucius said smiling.

"What's in the box, Lucius?" Snape said calmly.

"Why your clothes of course. You don't actually want to stay in those robes do you?"

"What would I need clothes for?"

"To take off of course", Lucius said mischievously.

Out of the box Lucius pulled a pair of black leather pants and a matching mesh shirt, black boots laced up Snape's legs.

"Delicious" Lucius murmured.

"Very" Snape replied, deftly unlacing Lucius' long braid so that its edges brushed his lower back, Severus' strong hands encircling his lover's waist, his thumbs pressed against Lucius' hip bones.

"You may have some trouble getting those off"

Snape looked at the leather pants. There were no zippers or buttons. He smiled, taking out of his robes on the floor a small knife. He drew a blade down Lucius' side by his hips, a thin red line appearing against the porcelain flesh. The knife hit the leather and easily parted it. Lucius' hand stayed him. "Keep them on, for now"

Hands running over leather, tongues against mesh. Red against the white from whips and knives alike. Later they lay on Severus' black silk sheets, both finally clad only in their own skin. Lucius' arms around Severus, Severus' face against Lucius' chest.

"Tired?" Lucius asked softly, running his fingers through Severus' hair.

"Never" whispered Severus, grinning wickedly.

He began to kiss and lick his way down the blonde's body, Lucius already writhing beneath him, his tongue just beginning to encircle Lucius' navel, when someone knocked on the other side of the bookcase.

"Bitch", he groaned against Lucius' stomach. Just when it was getting interesting.

"Don't answer that" Lucius whispered, really meaning "don't you dare stop."

"I have to answer it; it's probably Dumbledore coming in for one of evening attempts at socialization." Severus ran through his usual answers mentally. "Yes, I'm fine. No I don't want a drink. No, I do not need a therapist or Prozac. Yes, I will be at the staff meeting tomorrow." The tentative knocking grew louder.

"Bastard" Snape muttered. He climbed off of Lucius and fished around on the floor for an appropriate article of clothing. Disregarding the leather he pulled on Lucius' black silk pants, and lighting a candle, opened a bookcase door, his bed and room concealed by a curtain separating the door and the room.

Harry stepped back as the bookcase creaked open, and then his jaw dropped in shock at the figure within was revealed. Snape looked as if he had stepped out of one of Harry's wet dreams: lips bruised deep crimson, lithe strong bare torso, black silk pants and, were those bite marks!? Hair tussled and deep eyes black in the candlelight.

Snape looked up to see Harry. Gods he had forgotten!

"Fuck!" he exclaimed quietly and slammed the bookcase. "I'll be out in a moment" he hissed angrily through the wall. Harry sat in the chair and resisted the temptation to put his ear against the wall. He could hear murmuring on the other side and hurried dressing and packing.

"Lucius, I completely forgot! I can't cancel. You'll have to leave. Get everything quickly!" Snape hurriedly attempted to straighten up and Lucius used his portkey to get back to the mansion.

"Next week?" he questioned lazily as began to leave.

"Of course"

Snape emerged from his rooms a few minutes later dressed in proper robes and hair brushed into its usual tame array. One would almost think his earlier appearance a dream if his lips weren't so dark and on his index finger that he tapped the table with, bite marks, evidence of Lucius' climax.

"Is...this a bad time?" Harry questioned.

"No. I apologize, I forgot our meeting."

"Erm...ok"

"Now as to your cheating in potions class..."

He continued: "And so do you agree?"

Harry looked up abashed and realized he had not heard a word the professor had said. "Sir?"

Snape sighed. It was his own fault for appearing before the boy like that. As if the boy wasn't imaginative enough. Snape licked at some blood on his lower lip.

"Mr. Potter, simply do not use her notes next time, alright? You are dismissed." Snape looked down at his desk.

Harry, however, did not leave. Almost trace-like, he leaned forward until he could reach Snape. His finger brushed Snape's lip and his professor looked up at him surprised. Instead of backing down, Harry brought his finger, moist with Snape's blood to his own lips and sucked on it, licking off the blood.

"What?-" Snape said softly.

Harry walked around the desk to Snape's chair and leaned down onto him, kissing him slowly. Biting and Severus' lower lip and sucking at the blood until Severus parted his lips and let him in. Sitting in his lap, straddling his hips Harry's hands entwined themselves in Snape's hair, pulling him closer. Snape sat there, willing himself not to do anything. James, the single word flashed through his mind and his hands reached out to wrap around Harry's waist. He began to kiss the boy back harshly, his hands tracing patterns over Harry's back. Harry pressed himself more urgently against Snape as the kiss deepened. Harry's erection firm against Snape's stomach.

"Please" Harry moaned into Snape's mouth.

Snape broke off the kiss and looked at him. "No."

Annoyed but by no means giving up, Harry began to kiss his way down Severus' neck, pushing aside the top of his robe and licking his collarbone.

"It is time for you to leave Mr. Potter."

"No." Harry responded petulantly, pleased that he could refuse the teacher.

Snape stood, holding Harry in his arms and walked across the room, where he dropped him in front of the door. "Get up." He said coldly. Confused and upset, Harry did as he was told. Snape opened the door. "Now leave."

Hurt, Harry asked, "Why?"

Snape looked at him with a wicked smile. "Because my games would not be to your liking."

Snape closed his door and retreated to his chambers. He sat down with his knees drawn up to his chest, and smashed the back of his head into the stone wall. That was a very stupid thing to do, he chided himself, he should never have... Pedophile, child molester, damned, damned, damned. Each word was punctuated by slamming his head into the wall until he saw nothing but darkness, his dim chambers giving way to blank pain and the feel of blood drying in his hair. Pain past the limits of pleasure, where it washes everything in crimson and all his faults and fears melded into the creeping background wall of his mental prison.

Harry threw himself onto his bed, hurt and cold.

"Harry?" Ron's voice tentatively questioned from behind the bed curtain.

"Just go away", was his miserable reply.

Ron opened the curtains and saw Harry curled up into himself on the bed on top of the covers, shivering though he shouldn't be cold in his long robes.

"What did he do?, I'll kill the bloody bastard!" Ron said as he saw his friend's tears.

"Nothing. He did nothing." Harry said blankly, regretting what was left undone far more than what had occurred. Promises and possibilities dashed into thousands of sharp pieces.

Ron stared some more and considered shuffling his feet and saying "erm" and heading off to bed, but managed to overcome his embarrassment at seeing his friend, his male friend, crying and shaking and alone.

"Come here" Ron said. He crawled on the bed with Harry and rubbed his back until he stopped crying, then wrapping his arms around him, fell asleep. His last words before he closed his eyes were "It's going to be ok."

Harry stayed awake staring at the heavy maroon curtains on his bed. Snape would never bring this up again. He could pretend it had never happened. It's not like it was the professor's fault. He had thrown himself at him. By tomorrow it will all have disappeared, a half forgotten sweet nightmare.