Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Pairing: Severus/Harry.

Rating: R

Summary: For as long as he lived Harry was never going to forget the sight of those black eyes in pain. The light hit Snape from the side and then it seemed to cover him as he turned in it to face the boy he had protected so many times before. And it looked like he was melting...

Author's note: I hate the ending to this chapter but I've been writing all day so I really can't think of a way to fix it. It just sounds awkward to me. Remember that this is my pet project so I may not update quite as quickly next time. Thanks for all your lovely reviews. Don't think I don't appreciate every single one of them.

Author: Spirit

o

The Cinderman's Kiss

o

CHAPTER 8

o

The first time I used the Purgation charm it wasn't to cleanse at all. Of course, like every other charm, it had existed long before I came along and nobody suspected that it could be made into something so dark. Even I didn't know of course but like everything else I try my hand at it and it all turned ((to bollocks)) out not so well. Thorough investigation showed that the charm had in fact always meant to be a soul binding spell and in fact was not meant for good at all. It was derived from the Caliga Animus Mortifer Curse which roughly translates into 'Dark Soul Killer' or 'Dark cloud bringing death to the soul'. Not entirely encouraging I know. ((Lucky me and my powers to tap into it. Joy.)) After years however it was purified and made into something that really helped the Healing field and its true history was lost. I came along hundreds of years later and it seemed a very spectacular way to kill Voldemort. What the scrolls and pensieves don't tell, however, is that done in its entirety the curse is evil. It's not something that just anyone can come along and wield. I almost separated from my own soul on numerous occassions and if it wasn't for the art of meditation I'd probably end up as some twisted hybrid with the best part of my soul and the worst parts of his switching places or something. In any event, that's the curse that I used to kill Voldemort. Although it was tampered with here and there to speed the process to mere seconds and desaturate the cloud into just a fine mist in which his soul was contained until it disintegrated. It was hard enough getting the original curse to work, but once I had tapped into its darkness, it would not allow me to perform the chants in any form but the dark way. I was not too thrilled about being the perfect vessel for this curse so I spent five months developing my own version that I could use and came up with a more potent, finely balanced charm that used the darkness instead of centered on it. This I called the Animus Abluo or 'Soul cleanser'. Having developed it, I never used it because theory only goes so far and I wasn't too thrilled about feeling that particular brand of evil channeled through my fingertips. When I did use it on my first patient, what I didn't expect was the comatose state that followed. ((Severus wake up. He won't open his eyes when I call. Shit!)) According to research this state should only lasts for about two days, after which I'll know if ((I killed him or not)) the Intabescopestis Curse that he is afflicted with should pass. ((And I'm never doing this bloody curse again. They can just go sod themselves the whole fucking lot of them. Someone else can be the pissing puppet of the sodding world.))

"Tune in tomorrow for another enticing episode of 'The-Boy-Who-Would-Be-Healer', right here on the self-report channel." Daryll chuckled to himself at the piece of paper in his hand. It said so much about the Harry Potter he knew that a part of him briefly twinged painfully at the loss of this special man.

"Put it down Dare. I'm not bloody writing that over and I'll need it for my Research Paper."

Harry opened his eyes slowly but couldn't seem to summon the energy to lift his head off the solid chest that it rested upon. Listening to Snape's heartbeat had been the only thing able to lull him to sleep the night before and a part of him was still afraid that should he lift his head the heart would immediately stop beating. So he merely squinted up at the blurred blob on the other side of the bed while one hand fumbled around for his glasses.

It occured to him that Daryll shouldn't even be there to begin with so as soon as he could focus he left the bed to stand in front of the good doctor and glared.

"What?" Daryll was the epitome of innocence.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry immediately asked. "You're supposed to be halfway across the world right now."

"Close but not quite," Daryll responded. He watched as Harry pressed the back of a hand across Snape's forehead. Daryll could bet that it wasn't even a concious act for Harry at that point. "I won't stay long because I really do have a full day today, but I'm not going to let you waste away because of Severus."

"I'm not wasting away," Harry muttered.

He took up the glass of water from the bedside table and dipped two fingers into the liquid. He pressed the dripping fingers upon the parched lips of Snape's mouth. Snape of course remained motionless.

"Harry let me do that." Darry took the glass away and maneuvered Harry into the chair. "You're going to make yourself sick puting all this energy into caring for him. You said yourself that the coma should last for two days. Dobby told me this morning that you've been haunting Severus' bedside ever since you performed the Purgation spell."

Harry couldn't even refute that.

He sighed loudly, buried his fingers in his already messy hair and cradled his forehead in his palms. He was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open even though he had only just awoken. Altogether he had slept six hours in five days but every time he closed his eyes, sleep wouldn't come. He spent half the night checking to make sure that Snape was still breathing and the other half he spent trying to ignore the silence in his head where Snape's voice used to echo. Sometimes he didn't think he was made to be a Healer because if it was this hard to care for one wizard then he would destroy himself by caring for others.

"It's not the same thing and you know that. You've looked after others before so don't deceive yourself. It's different with him."

Harry hadn't even known that he had spoken aloud but his sleep clouded mind had to admit that Daryll had a valid point. He had worked at St. Mungo's both as a volunteer and an intern and had even spent a few months, after Voldemort's demise, as a patient. He was usually very good with patients and usually knew where to draw the line between professional and personal feelings. But, as he watched Daryll go through the motion of listening to Severus' chest with his stethoscope, listening to both lungs and heart, he couldn't help the shiver of absolute terror that coursed through his body for no apparent reason.

"Don't think I don't know how pathetic I'm being. If he were awake he would tear me a new hole for acting like a complete arse around him, but it's fine to say that theoretically such and such a thing should happen when in reality the Abluo could kill him right before our eyes." Harry's voice was a mixture of emotions that were too complicated to decifer.

"The Animus Abluo," Daryll enunciated slowly, "How about, to get your mind off him, you tell me about this charm of yours."

Harry groaned, knowing that his friend meant well but not feeling well enough to go into an explanation. Of course, if he didn't speak then Daryll would know that he was so hungry that the floor was slightly swayng below his eyes and that was because he had been so worried about his patient that he couldn't remember the last time that he ate.

"I explained in the paper -"

"Sorry but I got only as far as the part where your words decended into the realm of the indecent and you obviously needed a break," Daryll interrupted. He was too busy checking Snape's limbs to notice the glare that Harry raised his head long enough to produce.

"I was brainstorming. You should try it sometimes at three in the morning and see how objective you can be." Harry muttered, but he took a deep breath anyway and gathered his thoughts. "What do you want to know?"

Daryll paused in his examination of Severus' skin for signs of bedsores, long enough to give Harry a suspicious look.

"Well for instance, why did Dobby have to come to me in panic because he was afraid that you were going to die from the charm? I know it's derived from a curse but he was terrified for you -"

"Dobby is like that."

"And it's no pretty sight to see the little guy go at it. As far as self injury goes I would be the first to haul him to a psychiatrist if he were human and just a little less magical. He slammed the door on his fingers a good ten times before I could get him to tell me what was wrong. Why didn't you tell me that it was so risky? Why didn't you explain it to the panel? I had to promise to allow him to look after you."

"Dobby exagerates. It wasn't anything that I couldn't handle."

Daryll pulled Harry's hands away from his face to look into the tired green eyes. There were dark circles already beginning to form and he looked a little pale which was evidence enough of Harry's overexertion.

"Tell me why he was worried."

Harry sighed.

"The Caliga is like a saturation of dark magic. It feeds off magic and it lives inside of purity just long enough to corrupt whatever is its host. Most curses has a Caliga but when someone intentionaly uses dark magic it gets stronger. Some wizards become lost to it and it takes over their soul. Someone like Voldemort for instance. His soul was so contaminated that you couldn't tell where the Caliga started and he ended. Long ago the Mayas stumbled across the chants to make it visible. The Aztecs stole the scrolls and perhaps sold them. Anyway, the chants weren't seen again until the days of the plagues in Egypt. Some say that to counter Moses' demands it's the Caliga that the advisors used to duplicate the plagues. It's not easy to control and only someone with a lot of power is said to be able to use it. I just tapped into it to perform the Caliga Animus Mortifer curse. It was hard to use. It used to drain me of my magic and leave me in absolute agony. It was worse than the Cruciatius because it actually left marks. There were times when I wished that it would kill me and it would use that too. I think it's because of those times when I was so weak that I would invite it inside of me that when I developed the Animus Abluo it was stronger than anyone had ever seen. I was still just barely tapping into the Caliga but some part of it stayed with me. And that's why Dobby was frightened. I explained to him before that to use it was my last resort. It works perfectly fine for other Healers but for me it's dark and to use it on the Intabescopestis is like fighting fire with fire."

"Then why didn't you explain that? We all just assumed that you were naturally good at it."

"I am naturally good at it," Harry countered. "It likes me. It likes whatever is inside of me or whatever powerful magic it feels inside of me so much that everytime I tap into it I can feel the evil curl in glee. One day it might even engulf me entirely and I'll lose my battle against it like Voldemort lost, and I'll become the next Dark Lord. Do you think I should have told the panel that? Do you think that the world wants to know that they were right and absolute power really does corrupt entirely? They revere me now but one day I could make them worship me and bow to me and kiss the hem of my robe. All I have to do is reach out and call it to me and I would be beyond a mere wizard. It would be so easy. I already have greatness. I could bend anyone's will. Everyone would know my name, not for what I do but for the destruction that I could cause with a whisper."

Harry's eyes lit up like emeralds. The edges of his iris darkened to black and they shone so brightly that he seemed to glow. His voice was low and deeper than he usually spoke. With each word the room shook harder and harder yet nothing fell or broke. Daryll clutched the handle of the chair that Harry sat in. Some part of him couldn't tear his eyes away from the wizard and yet other parts of him had never been so terrified before. Now he knew what everyone meant when they said that Harry Potter could possibly have been the greatest wizard of his time.

'You are not evil Potter. Some of us are born to despair but you were born to lead and to help. You know this and have always in fact known that you prefer to heal than to kill. It hurts you to hurt others because you have been hurt your whole life. To envision a future where you force others to follow you, even now, makes you feel disgusted. You might be powerful but Voldemort, at your age, would never have tried to do what you are so stubbornly trying to do for me. So stop deluding yourself as you're scaring the only Muggle I have ever been able to reasonably tolerate.'

Harry sucked in a lungful of air then closed his eyes so tightly that he could actually see colors beyond his eyelids. He held on to the words, savored them and felt as if his whole body was shaking with relief. He didn't have a name for what he felt after that and he didn't want to analyze it. All he knew was that just from hearing the familiar snarl of Snape's voice made him feel as if he had suddenly remembered how to breathe properly.

"Severus? You're awake. That's good." Daryll's voice was too soft to tremble but Harry knew that he had given his friend a shock at his little display.

Harry smoothly rose from the chair and even then Daryll refused to turn back around. Instead he seemed to have locked eyes with the dark ones that stared back at him in some silent communication or another. Harry didn't even pause. He wrapped his arms around Daryll's body tighly. This wasn't the usually manly hug that guy friends shared. It was instead one of the hugs that they used to share when they were lovers. Neither of them had been held much when they were small and to be cocooned in the embrace of someone who really cared used to be one of the strong points of their relationship.

"I am the worse sodding friend in the world and an even greater cock-up when it comes to being a wizard because I've obviously got bollocks for brains by flaunting my powers like that," Harry softly whispered into Daryll's hair and being grateful as always that he and Daryll had always been the exact same height despite the age difference. "I'm a fucking arse Dare, I swear."

Finally, Daryll pulled his gaze away from the steady ones below him as he turned fully into Harry's arms. He had missed those arms, had missed the way Harry cared so much that he would give pieces of himself away just to indulge his lovers no matter how briefly. He had missed being on the receiving end of a hug that only another man could do properly. With his fiance he was the strong one. He had missed not having to be so strong all the time.

"Shit," Daryll whispered back into his ear. "You are shit Harry Potter."

Harry nodded completely in agreement. "I am. I definitely am. Sorry mate."

He was so lost in the act of comforting his friend that it took him by complete surprise when he felt the rush of emotion escape past the barrier in his mind. It was reluctant and definitely an accident judging from the way that Snape immediately clamped down on it. But there was no mistaking jealousy when it was so strong that it felt like waves flooding Harry's mind for that brief moment.

"By the way, in case his opened eyes didn't tip you off, your patient is awake," Daryll said as he retreated from the slightly intimate embrace. He immediately picked up on the fact that Harry's attention was not entirely focussed on him anymore and instead was gazing somewhat confused at Severus. "I'll ask Dobby to floo me out. You two have five days worth of catching up to do. Later Harry."

Harry smiled, nodded and then returned to almost glaring at Snape as the door to the guest room was gently shut.

"He's just a friend. Maybe slightly more because of our history but he loves his girlfriend and he knows that we were never serious," he finally said aloud.

'I hardly see how I should care Potter.'

Harry closed the distance between himself and the edge of the bed. Snape may have just awoken after days in a coma, but Harry was damned if he was going to let this conversation pass.

"I felt that and I know that you know I felt it so stop pretending," he snapped. "Whatever you might say to the contrary that's evidence enough that you like me in just the way I considered. You're not asexual at all."

'I don't remember saying that I was, Potter. Less than one percent of the world's population is asexual. I should be so lucky, but just because you now know that the idea is not entirely repulsive to me does not give you license to start molesting me in any form.'

Harry knew what Snape was doing, he even understood what was driving it but it still did nothing to stop Harry from feeling anger swelling inside of him. It took a great effort to tamper it down and not to find some means of hurting the other wizard. It helped to remind himself that the other man had only been conscious for barely fifteen minutes.

"Molesting you huh? Don't worry you're safe from me and my wayward nature." He turned away and walked swiftly over to the door. "You're going to feel terrible soon because that's how the Abluo works. I'll stay away like you obviously want. Dobby can take care of you, just knock three times on something as usual. Excuse me Professor."

It wasn't until he exited the room that Snape gave some type of response.

'Potter...'

The sound of his name was almost like a wish and a curse word at once. It was tangled in emotions that Harry was sure that Snape meant to stay private. It hurt Harry just to feel it and his insides ached with his want. He really, really wanted the prickly bastard, sarcasm and all. He closed his eyes and held on to both his feelings and Snape's until there was nothing left to hold on to. Then he went in search of Daryll, hoping that he wasn't too late to wish his friend a proper goodbye. Sometimes he forgot that just because Daryll grew up around magic didn't mean that he was equipped to handle the dark sides of it and he would have probably scared even Ron and Hermione with the display of power that he had done. He would have managed to scare everyone except Snape apparently, who had said just the right thing at the right time to stop him losing some kind of control. Yet the man had said just the wrong thing not five minutes later.

Harry chuckled softly at that, because only Snape could turn his gratitude into anger so quickly.

o

An hour later Dobby apparated before Harry in a panic. The professor was vomiting and his magic would not work so he was afraid that the wizard was going to choke to death. The poor house-elf did not know what to do as he certainly was not strong enough to hold up the professor and every spell he used seemed to have no other effect than to make the professor even more sick.

Harry apparated upstairs and wasted no time in simultaneously and wandlessly cunjuring up a bucket, magically changing the sheets and removing Snape's clothes then hauling Snape's limp body up and over in his arms to clear the man's respiratory track. Luckily Dobby had propped him up against the headboard before apparating to find Harry so that Snape had not been in a dire situation.

Snape was sweating profusively but his whole body convulsivley trembled.

Harry wrapped one arm tightly around the wiry frame of Snape's body as it shook while he used his other hand to hold back the curtain of black hair. He knew that Snape would protest the embrace but Harry was emotionally exhausted when it came to his ex-professor. He couldn't seem to catch a break with the man because as soon as he dealt with one problem they just seemed to trip into another complication. At least he had expected this bout of nausea however.

"It's alright. It's just the Purgation charm. It will soon pass," Harry reassured Snape softly.

But it did not pass.

After about half an hour of nonestop vomiting, Harry called out to Dobby to get him a pitcher. He was never more grateful than at that moment that they had fixed Snape's swallowing problem .With all the fluid being lost, Harry was afraid that Snape was soon to be dehydrated. So he forced Snape to swallow gulps of water whenever there was a pause, then he would watch as a second or two later the fluid would make a reappearance into the bucket. He was obviously not retaining the liquid long enough for it to help.

Harry's concern was only to get worse after another hour. Up until then Snape had been silent in his mind as if a cold dark wall stood between their minds. Harry tried pushing hard against it but that was to no avail. He gave up, realizing that Snape had been a spy for twenty years so if the wizard did not want to allow him access into his mind then there was no way to force himself in. By the second hour Snape was slumped over the bucket, no longer voluntarily throwing up but more like so exhausted that his eyes fluttered close and vomit errupted from his mouth and nose. In Harry's arms, Snape's body began to feel ice cold as the wizard slipped into a state of shock.

Harry began to actively beg as he pounded against the wall in his mind that blocked him from Severus.

"Let me in! Stop being an arse you stubborn fool. I can't help you if I don't know what you're reacting to. This has to be a side effect of the Abluo but I have to know so that I can attempt to fix it."

'Hurts...'

The word was not a word but a mixture of an emotion and a thought. By itself it was almost a disconnected observation or just a single expression randomly floating through Harry's mind. But what followed the word was like a floodgate opening the world between Harry's mind and Snape's. Harry couldn't help it. His immediate reaction was to tighten his grasp on Snape's body and scream like a wounded animal. The sound was not coherent in the least, it wasn't even civilized, it was more like a raw gurgling of agony that tore itself from the bottom of Harry's stomach and triggered every pain nerve in Harry's body as it expelled itself through Harry's mouth. Because as soon as the floodgates opened Harry felt the pain that Severus had been in for nearly four hours. Every bone in Snape's body, every muscle, every nerve, every organ, everything felt like they were on fire with pieces of glass embedded in them.

Then suddenly, without warning the pain was abruptly cut off leaving only a dull echo of the distress that was still there.

Harry checked the man in his arms and realized that while Snape was no longer vomitting, he was unconscious. Harry was grateful for Snape's sake. He gently laid Snape down and covered the trembling form with a conjured up blanket. He got rid of the bucket and then quickly cleaned Snape up with a wet rag. When he was finished he rapped three times sharply on the bedside table because he wasn't sure if he had the strength to use his voice and call out to his house-elf.

Dobby appeared wringing his clothes nervously with his large eyes glued to the unconscious wizard in the bed. "Yes, Harry Potter?"

Harry deflated upon the bedside chair and tried to calm his still racing heart with deep breaths.

"Oh gods Dobby I almost killed him," he breathed in a shaky voice. "How could he have such a strong reaction to a spell?"

"The professor is not better?" Dobby asked nervously.

Harry shook his head and couldn't seem to stop himself, finally having to bury his face in his palms as he recited what he knew about both spells. "The Purgation spell is usually followed by a short period of nausea or vomiting. Most patients with Intabescopestis have mild tingling in the afflicted area while undergoing treatment. Short and mild Dobby! That was neither short nor mild! He was in so much pain that I can't believe he endured it for so long."

"Does Harry Potter wish for Dobby to go to S'Mungo's?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "He'll need an analgesic. The potions for the Intabescopestis isn't finished brewing as yet and I don't want to start him on the treatment if I don't have the three potions ready, just in case something else goes wrong. So if you go to his Recovery room on the far shelf there is an orange potion in a crystal flask, just get me that please. I might as well treat the pain if I can't help him in any other way.

Dobby popped out of the room and quickly popped back in with the potion. Harry gave him a grateful smile as he uncorked the bottle to let out an odor much like sulphur and burned wood. When Dobby apparated again Harry was too busy dimming the candlelight in the room to mere shadows before removing all obstruction until Snape laid naked before him.

The first touch of Harry's hands upon his skin pulled Snape back into consciousness and his mismatched eyes abruptly opened. Harry paused as he poured more of the oil-based potion onto Snape's stomach before he left the flask floating towards the nearest table while he gently splayed both palms upon the tight cords of twisted abdominal muscles. Snape flinched, whether from pain or relief Harry did not know, but he did not say a word as his eyes met with the sparkling green of Harry's gaze.

"I'll give you a potion to drink that will settle your nausea if you still feel unwell after I'm finish," Harry said softly. "That should have been the first thing I did this morning but I got distracted with Daryll and forgot afterwards. I'm sorry."

Snape's fingers rose slowly then rested lightly upon Harry's hand where they seemed to flutter across the back of Harry's palm and against his wrist. Harry felt tiny tingles of eletricity race through his arm, but he forced himself to not appear so affected by such a simple touch.

'You are doing your best Potter and for that I am grateful.'

Harry could only nod as he lowered his gaze. He was afraid that Snape would see how much Harry loved the feeling of those fingers resting so gently on his hand. He was afraid to even move in case he caused Snape to remove the light touch, but when he did the fingers only moved higher up his arm to caress him while he massaged the potion into Snape's flesh.

Harry felt like he was holding his breath as his hands glided across the expanse of Snape's chest. His thumbs parted company as each moved closer and closer to each of an abused nipple and under the pretense of care, Harry ran thumbs, fingers and palms over them. When he caught himself he had to cover his lapse in concentration by spreading the potion further upwards and massaging the potion into the sharp curve of collar-bone and across each shoulder until Snape's chest glistened.

Then he began the journey downwards, stealing across the nipples again and over each rib that jutted out. His forefinger dipped into the hollow of Snape's navel while his other fingers strained towards thin hips. Harry purposefully resisted the urge to follow the line of hair that trailed from the base of Snape's navel downwards. Instead Harry closed his eyes until his fingers found the bones of each hip and only then did he allow his fingers the freedom in exploration again.

Each hip descended into a thigh and each thigh became a shin and then an ankle and then five toes. Harry worshipped each and every one as he alternated between one leg and the next. He made sure to add more potion to his palms before he took Snape's feet and massaged the soles slowly and thoroughly. His entire body felt like it was vibrating and desire ebbed and flowed like a tide that he could only sway along with.

'I don't think I understand Potter.' Snape's mental words bounced through Harry's clouded thoughts. 'I have offered before and I can see in your eyes that -'

Harry cut him off with a shape intake of breath before he frantically shook his head and merely whispered. "I...I..need to turn you over...for the potion."

Snape offered no resistance as Harry rolled him over unto his stomach and arranged his head upon the pillow. Harry reached for the vial of potion again and liberally coated Snape's back. Unlike the front of the wizard, the back had no smooth flesh on which to dote upon. For everywhere Harry looked there was only wrinkled discolored skin that were puckered in most places but not in some. Harry was unsure of where to even begin because he could still feel the way the muscles had throbbed in pain and he was afraid to increase that pain further.

Harry hesitated and by doing that he immediately caught Snape's reaction to such an hesitation. It took all his efforts not to begin with a stream of protestation, but he couldn't seem to find the proper words to say. So instead he said whatever came to his mind.

"Don't think that." Snape's thoughts and emotions retreated at the whispered words, but Harry continued to speak anyway. "You're not ugly. You're not...ugly. You're -" Harry's breath caught again. "You must know already that I don't think you are. That I think you're... That I want..."

It occured to Harry then that massaging Snape's naked body may not have been his brightest idea. Not when he wanted the man so much that he was aching. Not when every stroke upon Snape's skin was like a stroke to the underside of his throbbing erection. Not when his thoughts kept providing him with images of what he wanted to do and taste on Snape's body.

He tried to retract his fingers but they wouldn't leave so instead he let them linger along the expanse of Snape's skin as he worked the potion into the different regions of Snape's back. When he was through he turned Snape back over. By then he couldn't meet the intese gaze that he knew was burning into him. He was finding it difficult to breathe as it was so to look into the amber and ebony eyes would have too much for him to bear.

'Let me give you what you want Potter. I owe you that much,' Snape said, and Harry lost to everything he was feeling, even as he shook his head in refusal. Snape reached up to trace the curve of his lips. 'You are not entirely undesirable to me and I am not so innocent as to what you desire. I must admit that I am flattered that even in my current state you want me this much. So the least that I can do is to allow you some form of release.'

"No," Harry whispered back. "Stop. Please stop." Even though he leaned into the caress of the long fingers and he clenched the sheet below his hands from where he knelt at Snape's side. "You're not even hard."

Which of course Snape wasn't and had not even twitched in Harry's direction. Snape shrugged that off though as if arousal was a rare occurence for him.

"But you are," Snape said in a logical tone. "You're shaking."

Harry caught the hand that was still lingering across his face, and he kissed it. Then because he couldn't help it, he nipped at each finger before sucking first the index finger and then the middle finger between his lips and into mouth, where he lavished them with his tongue, desperate to feel some part of Snape in some part of his body. He didn't, couldn't, even protest when the fingers slipped from his mouth to unbutton his pants and lower it to his thighs. Instead his eyes fluttered close as Severus' fingers curled around his throbbing cock. He didn't even try to hold back the gasps and moans as they spilled from his lips, before the tightening in his groin warned of his release. His eyes flew open only to meet the calm dark eyes that stared up at him before his orgasm stole him away to an abyss that was not big enough to hide his moans of pleasure.

When it was over, Harry's embarassment threatened to suffocate him and he could only stay in the room long enough to make them both decent again before hastily retreating to the living room, where he collapsed with the phone clenched tightly to his chest as he fought a wave of anxiety and nausea. Only when he had dialled each of his best friends did his breathing fall into a more relaxed pattern.

o

"Why do you want him?" Daryll's voice came sharply across the phoneline in an almost brutal seriousness. "Is it because he's injured? Because he is your patient? Is it because he owes you so much now and would never refuse you? Is it his sense of duty or his guilt that drives you? Do you want him because he is unable to stop you from wanting him Harry?"

"No."

"Why do you want him Harry?" Hermione asked this time. "Don't confuse your professional duties with your personal side. I know that you're generally good at keeping them separate but you've never been tested like this before and it would be unfair to Snape and yourself to pursue him only because he is at your disposal right now. Is that why you want him so much now after so many years of hating him?"

"Of course not!"

"Personally I think it's just bloody unhealthy because somewhere deep down he's still the greasy old sod that we knew," Ron chipped in with a grunt of displeasure. "I don't give a rat's arse why you've taken a fancy to him now Harry. The very fact that you do want him is just unbelievable. So if you do want him mate then forget about us. Whatever the hell it is, is just between the two of you and definitely not our bloody business."

Harry sat a long time before the burning flame in the fireplace as he pondered the question of his now overwhelming attraction to Severus Snape and all he could come up with was that it did not matter how he came to such a state. All he knew was that it had felt amazing to have Snape's hand upon him and he desperately wanted more now.

It did not matter why he wanted Snape. All that mattered was that he just did.

oXo

Glossary

Caliga - darkness, gloom, mist

Animus - soul, spirit, intellect

Mortifer - deadly, death-bringing

Abluo - to wash, clean, cleanse