* * * Post Coitum Omne Magister Irancundus * * *
It was, of course, too good to last long. The pounding on his door not ten minutes later had him reaching for his wand, totally intent on hexing someone to death. He was halfway across the room before he heard Harry's amused snort. When he turned to deliver some scathing retort, his dressing gown caught him squarely in the chest. "You look more impressive dressed, Severus." Since there was nothing to say to that, he merely raised an eyebrow and shrugged into the worn velvet with as much dignity as he could muster. Damn Potter.
He strode to the door and yanked it open, snarl at the ready.
"Oh, Severus! Thank goodness you're all right! You are all right, aren't you? No trouble ...?"
"I'm fine," he managed to say coolly rather than shrieking at the nurse.
"It's just that I was down in the village when the monitoring charm went off. I ran back as fast as I could and I was rather worried..." Her voice trailed off again and she stared at him with the oddest look on her face. He crossed his arms and scowled.
"Monitoring charm?" He disliked the idea of anyone supervising him like an errant child.
"Yes," she said, now clearly flustered. "I forgot it was still active. It was a very simple one, just to keep track of your heart's action while it healed from the damage you did to it with your Perpessio." Her eyes kept darting over his right shoulder as she babbled. "When it started blinking so quickly, I was certain you had relapsed."
"It was not," he said with icy dignity, "the potion that did the damage. I have my rather unfortunate paternal heredity to thank for that. I am, as you can see, perfectly fine. Now, if there is nothing else?"
The mediwitch's fascinated gaze was fixed on something behind him as she mumbled the words to cancel the monitoring charm. Snape was beginning to have an uneasy feeling that he knew exactly who that something was. It seemed that his dignity was fated to suffer this Christmas, no matter what. "Good night, Poppy." He closed the door firmly in her face, then turned around.
Harry Potter, lean and pale, was leaning in the doorway of Snape's bedroom. His trousers hung precariously off his narrow hips and his eyes gleamed beneath his tousled hair. He looked like the beginning of an especially shameful fantasy. The foolish smile on his face did nothing for Snape's affronted dignity, although it did warm him considerably after the dressing gown comment.
"You realize that your reputation will be ruined?" Snape said sardonically.
Harry pretended to consider this for a moment. "Or this might make it. After all, to have seduced the famously irascible Potions master of Hogwarts is something of an achievement, wouldn't you say?"
"Certainly. I am considered quite a catch; the trail of broken hearts leading to my door should have told you as much."
Harry's smile widened, then he yawned. "I need a bath. You coming?"
"If only to see that you wash behind your ears properly. And I am not irascible," Snape added, following Harry and watching with interest as those trousers slipped lower and lower.
Harry absent-mindedly yanked his trousers up, turned the water on, then sat on the side of the tub and looked up at Snape. "What would you call it, Severus? You're certainly not warm, cuddly and approachable."
Something new and rather raw inside Severus had been flicked one more time than he could stand this night. "Then why are you still here, Potter?" He crossed his arms and stared down at him.
Harry's smile faded as he watched Severus' face. "I'm here," he said quietly, "because there is nowhere else I want to be. I like you irascible."
"You're an idiot."
"So you've told me. But you seem to like me that way." There was the faintest hint of uncertainty on Harry's face and Severus suddenly found it easy to say,
"Yes, I seem to."
That faintly boyish smile on Harry's lips became a great deal more adult, especially when he stood up and let his trousers slither to the floor. He reached out and let his hand trail beneath the lapel of Severus' dressing gown, pulling it away with a heavy-eyed fascination that soothed the raw spots Severus had discovered inside himself.
In short order, Severus found himself nude and drawn down into the hot water to rest against Harry's chest. Soapy hands moved slowly across his skin; strong arms cradling him as the scented steam made him logy and reminded him that he needed sleep. He felt a pang of regret that he would have to disappoint his obviously keen lover; he was too tired and too sated to respond to those admittedly delightful caresses. But Harry was silent, occasionally pressing kisses against his damp temple or neck as he continued to stroke his hands down Snape's arms and across his chest. Severus began to understand this as yet another form of lovemaking for him, one which demanded nothing more from Severus than acquiescence.
In the same bewitched silence, Severus was drawn out of the cooling water and gently toweled dry. He crawled between the sheets once more and reached out to Harry, only to find himself drawn back down to rest his head on that strong young chest. Letting himself slide into sleep was far easier than saying any of the odd thoughts that floated through his mind. The last thing he felt was Harry's lips, warm and damp against his nose.
* * *
It was, of course, too good to last long. The pounding on his door not ten minutes later had him reaching for his wand, totally intent on hexing someone to death. He was halfway across the room before he heard Harry's amused snort. When he turned to deliver some scathing retort, his dressing gown caught him squarely in the chest. "You look more impressive dressed, Severus." Since there was nothing to say to that, he merely raised an eyebrow and shrugged into the worn velvet with as much dignity as he could muster. Damn Potter.
He strode to the door and yanked it open, snarl at the ready.
"Oh, Severus! Thank goodness you're all right! You are all right, aren't you? No trouble ...?"
"I'm fine," he managed to say coolly rather than shrieking at the nurse.
"It's just that I was down in the village when the monitoring charm went off. I ran back as fast as I could and I was rather worried..." Her voice trailed off again and she stared at him with the oddest look on her face. He crossed his arms and scowled.
"Monitoring charm?" He disliked the idea of anyone supervising him like an errant child.
"Yes," she said, now clearly flustered. "I forgot it was still active. It was a very simple one, just to keep track of your heart's action while it healed from the damage you did to it with your Perpessio." Her eyes kept darting over his right shoulder as she babbled. "When it started blinking so quickly, I was certain you had relapsed."
"It was not," he said with icy dignity, "the potion that did the damage. I have my rather unfortunate paternal heredity to thank for that. I am, as you can see, perfectly fine. Now, if there is nothing else?"
The mediwitch's fascinated gaze was fixed on something behind him as she mumbled the words to cancel the monitoring charm. Snape was beginning to have an uneasy feeling that he knew exactly who that something was. It seemed that his dignity was fated to suffer this Christmas, no matter what. "Good night, Poppy." He closed the door firmly in her face, then turned around.
Harry Potter, lean and pale, was leaning in the doorway of Snape's bedroom. His trousers hung precariously off his narrow hips and his eyes gleamed beneath his tousled hair. He looked like the beginning of an especially shameful fantasy. The foolish smile on his face did nothing for Snape's affronted dignity, although it did warm him considerably after the dressing gown comment.
"You realize that your reputation will be ruined?" Snape said sardonically.
Harry pretended to consider this for a moment. "Or this might make it. After all, to have seduced the famously irascible Potions master of Hogwarts is something of an achievement, wouldn't you say?"
"Certainly. I am considered quite a catch; the trail of broken hearts leading to my door should have told you as much."
Harry's smile widened, then he yawned. "I need a bath. You coming?"
"If only to see that you wash behind your ears properly. And I am not irascible," Snape added, following Harry and watching with interest as those trousers slipped lower and lower.
Harry absent-mindedly yanked his trousers up, turned the water on, then sat on the side of the tub and looked up at Snape. "What would you call it, Severus? You're certainly not warm, cuddly and approachable."
Something new and rather raw inside Severus had been flicked one more time than he could stand this night. "Then why are you still here, Potter?" He crossed his arms and stared down at him.
Harry's smile faded as he watched Severus' face. "I'm here," he said quietly, "because there is nowhere else I want to be. I like you irascible."
"You're an idiot."
"So you've told me. But you seem to like me that way." There was the faintest hint of uncertainty on Harry's face and Severus suddenly found it easy to say,
"Yes, I seem to."
That faintly boyish smile on Harry's lips became a great deal more adult, especially when he stood up and let his trousers slither to the floor. He reached out and let his hand trail beneath the lapel of Severus' dressing gown, pulling it away with a heavy-eyed fascination that soothed the raw spots Severus had discovered inside himself.
In short order, Severus found himself nude and drawn down into the hot water to rest against Harry's chest. Soapy hands moved slowly across his skin; strong arms cradling him as the scented steam made him logy and reminded him that he needed sleep. He felt a pang of regret that he would have to disappoint his obviously keen lover; he was too tired and too sated to respond to those admittedly delightful caresses. But Harry was silent, occasionally pressing kisses against his damp temple or neck as he continued to stroke his hands down Snape's arms and across his chest. Severus began to understand this as yet another form of lovemaking for him, one which demanded nothing more from Severus than acquiescence.
In the same bewitched silence, Severus was drawn out of the cooling water and gently toweled dry. He crawled between the sheets once more and reached out to Harry, only to find himself drawn back down to rest his head on that strong young chest. Letting himself slide into sleep was far easier than saying any of the odd thoughts that floated through his mind. The last thing he felt was Harry's lips, warm and damp against his nose.
* * *