Thanks to one and all for your reviews…they are much appreciated.
I don't have any experience writing this sort of…ahem…scene…so if I did badly, please let me know, but if it's ok, it'd be nice to hear that too.
Harry didn't hear himself say anything, but he must have made some kind of noise, because Ginny's head jerked up, and so did Dean's, and they all stared at each other for a long, tense moment, the firelight flickering off her hair, and Dean's eyes, and giving the whole scene unreal lighting.
"Harry?"
Ginny's voice was small, and Harry hardly registered it. His eyes were locked with Dean's eyes, which were unreadable. How could this be happening? Dean wouldn't, would never…
But, interrupted a snide little voice, you were doing the same thing.
"Harry!" Ginny's voice was more insistant now, and Harry glanced at her distractedly. "Is everything ok?"
What a stupid question.
There was, of course, only one answer.
"No." Harry said clearly, his eyes on Dean, "Nothing is ok."
And then, feeling horrible in more ways than one, he turned and made his way up to the boy's dormitories.
At least, the snide voice hissed at him, you weren't with a female.
With Ginny, Harry thought, despairing. If it had been anyone else, I could hate them, but not Ginny. She's too much of a friend. And she didn't know we were together.
He was only allowed a moment of peace before someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Dean." Harry's voice was flat.
"No." The voice behind him was very quiet, and was very obviously not Dean's.
Harry spun around to face Ginny. Her eyes were shining, and her hair was messed where Dean's hands had tangled with it. Harry wanted to slap her, but resisted.
"Harry, I'm sorry."
He shook his head, to clear it as much as to deny what she was saying. How could an apology be expected to help? And did she even know what she was apologizing for?
"I gave up on you years ago. It just got too painful waiting for you to notice me."
"Huh?" it was the most articulate thing he could manage at the moment.
"I can see it upset you to see me with someone else, but we never had anything, Harry. We couldn't, don't you see? Because it would destroy Ron."
"Yes." He agreed with that. There never could be anything between them. And not just because of Ron.
"Dean said this would happen."
She looked up at him beseechingly, as if begging him not to be angry.
"What?"
"Dean told me you'd be upset, but I didn't believe him."
"When?" It didn't make sense. None of it fit together.
"Two weeks ago when we got together. He said to be careful not to let you see us just yet, because it would bother you."
"Two weeks ago," Harry repeated numbly. Two weeks. It didn't fit. It couldn't be. Dean wouldn't…
"But I really didn't think you were interested in me!" Ginny sounded desperate. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I never meant to upset you! I value our friendship; really I do."
"Me too." It seemed like the only honest thing he could manage at the moment.
"Oh Harry, I'm so glad you won't let this come between us!" And, before he could respond, she'd lunged forwards to hug him, and had dashed away. "I have to find Dean," she called over her shoulder. "He ran off when you went upstairs, and I should tell him you're not mad."
Harry sank onto his bed, trying not to think. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to stop himself. Two weeks. His fuzzy brain tried to make sense of it. If Dean and Ginny had been together for two weeks (and why would Ginny have lied?) then Dean…Dean had been cheating on him.
Dean had been cheating on him.
And then another thought intruded. He, Harry, had just passed up an opportunity to be thoroughly fucked by Severus Snape.
Harry shook his head to clear away the thought of Ginny and Dean, and ran down the stairs and out of the common room.
By the time he'd reached the dungeons, he'd started to have second thoughts. Severus was drunk. Harry would be taking advantage of him, since the man had been all to ready to admit that he'd likely hate him in the morning.
But he wanted this so badly.
He didn't really come to a decision. Quite independently, his hand rose up and knocked politely three times on the door before coming back to rest at his side.
Harry waited, hardly breathing.
Then, when he'd almost given up, there came a theatrical sigh from inside. "Go away, whoever you are. I am entirely sick of dealing with the problems of other people. I don't care if you're head's been removed and attached to your rear end. It can wait until morning. I am getting thoroughly drunk, and I'm not interested."
Harry knocked again, then brought his head closer to the door and said softly "My head's not attached to my rear end, actually, as far as I know, but if you'd really like me to leave…"
The door flew open, and Harry found himself staring up at a very attractive picture. Severus Snape, his hair interestingly mussed, was looming over him, a glass of something clutched in his right hand.
"Harry," Severus placed his glass on a nearby table and stepped forwards, threading his hands lightly through the boy's hair and tilting his head up, burying his head in the exposed white neck, sucking lightly on it. Then he moved his mouth to meet Harry's, and kissed him soundly, their tongues arching against each other. Finally he drew back and whispered harshly, "If you're not hear to be ravished, boy, I suggest you leave."
Harry, breathless from the kiss, knowing he was half hard already, smiled and stepped a pace back, leaning against the doorframe. "How drunk are you?" he asked, grinning. "Because I'd hate to get all excited only to have you pass out. If you're too drunk for anything interesting, I'd rather find out now…"
Severus growled deep in his throat, and Harry revised his earlier thought about being half hard. He closed his eyes, a delicious shiver running through him.
"I am never too drunk for that, boy, and don't you ever forget it. Nor do I pass out."
And Harry felt his lips captured again, as he was pulled inside, hands resting on his hips. He moved his own hands around his potions professor's neck, closing any remaining distance between them, rubbing himself up against the taller man.
"You are delectable," Severus whispered in his ear, pushing him roughly against the wall, "you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."
"You could have just done it," Harry replied, trying to get his lungs to work properly. Long, graceful hands were slipping under his robes now, pushing them off his shoulders and brushing against his bare skin.
Harry gasped as one of those hands made its way south, lingering on his hips, then moving downward to rest on his throbbing erection.
He slipped his own hands into the other man's robes and stroked Severus's chest, feeling muscles under his hands.
And gasped again as Severus began to suck on his lower lip. He managed to pant out, between kisses, "Maybe we should take this somewhere else."
Severus dropped a kiss on his cheekbone and nipped his earlobe, sending shivers down Harry's spine. When he spoke, it was a whisper, directly into Harry's ear, tickling. "Oh, but I was just getting warmed up."
Harry felt his bones turn to liquid. He struggled not to collapse into Severus' arms. "Won't someone hear us..?"
"Who would? And the door is securely locked." Harry couldn't speak. Those long fingers were doing incredible things to him—stroking him, squeezing. He gasped into the older man's mouth, and was rewarded by a light chuckle.
"Besides, Harry, I want you right here, where I've dreamed of having you. I want to take you, hard and fast…"
Harry could hardly think now. He had forgotten how to work his tongue, except for things other than speaking. "You'd better get on with it then," With a supreme effort, he pulled away. "Or I'm not going to last much longer."
He pushed the heavy black robe from Severus's shoulders, watching as it pooled on the floor, and stepped forwards again, running his hands boldly over the white skin. He wanted to memorize every inch of this man, every scar, every mole. Harry lavished kisses on the long neck, biting at the soft hollow behind Severus's ear, moaning against his collarbone.
Finally, when he felt he could last no longer, and the older man's breathing was ragged, interspersed with groans, Harry felt a light breath on his ear, and heard a whisper. "Is this what you want, Harry? Or do you want more?"
Severus's voice was very nearly gentle, and it took on a silky undertone now, unlike anything Harry had ever heard.
"I want…more." His hands grasped handfuls of black hair, and his head was buried in skin that smelled of sandalwood and sweat.
"Turn around." The silk was back full force, almost a purr, and Harry moaned at the sound. He turned around, his back to the potions master, and leaned over a desk, pressing himself against it automatically, wanting contact with anything.
"Lubricadum." The spell was spoken from somewhere close behind him, and Harry felt goosebumps rising along his back. A light kiss was pressed to the hollow between his shoulder blades, and a finger, coated with something slick, entered him. He squirmed impatiently and writhed against the desk.
"Hurry up! Sev—I'm coming soon!"
"Very well…" That voice was driving him to a frenzy. He kept from stroking himself to completion by sheer willpower, and that was giving out.
Then Severus entered him, swiftly, driving him up against the desk, and long slim fingers reached around his hips, grasping his cock and pumping it enthusiastically.
"Fuck me, Severus!"
Harry had never felt anything like this. Nothing with Dean had ever felt so right, so absolutely perfect. Severus's weight behind him was nothing more than an easy pressure, and he found himself wishing it would never end.
But they found their rhythm quickly, and groaned together, Harry spilling his seed over the desk and floor, Severus coming inside him, breathing Harry's name like an incantation, as he thrust into him.
In the second after he came, before Severus did, Harry's head was clear, and he thought, with absolute certainty: this is the best moment of my life.
And then the older man was holding him tightly, arms wrapped around his chest, smoothing hair from his eyes. They were silent for a moment, breathing heavily, and when Severus spoke, it was with a lower, deeper purr than before.
"Harry?"
"Mmm?" Harry was enjoying the sensation of being held, despite the messiness.
"Harry, did I hurt you?"
"No." He wriggled around to face Severus and planted a kiss on his lips, gently, wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck again, and toying with his hair. "That was bloody brilliant. When can we do it again?"
He regretted the question immediately, because a shadow crossed Severus's face. "Let's worry about that tomorrow, Harry."
"Sounds good to me." Harry snuggled closer, nuzzling at Severus's chest hair. "Can I stay with you tonight?"
"Can you…what?" The man sounded surprised.
"I don't fancy walking back to bed just now. Besides, you're going to come to your senses in the morning, right?"
"Presumably." Severus sounded amused.
"Well I want to spend as much time as I can with you."
"How endearing."
The voice was snide, but when Harry looked up into those unrelenting, unyielding eyes, he sensed some warmth. And when he smiled, a smile full of heart-stopping sweetness, Severus's black eyes melted.
"I suppose. I find it unlikely that I will make it to my chambers, however."
"Mmm. Do we really have to move?" Harry was half sitting, half standing, wrapped in Severus's arms, savoring the scent of the other man.
"Lazy as well as incompetent, Potter." Severus drawled. "Whatever shall I do with you?"
"Fuck me." Harry grinned as if it was obvious. "What else?"
"Incorrigible brat."
"You love it."
"Correct."
And, with another slow, languorous kiss, they made their way down the hallway, and to the potion master's private quarters. And fell fast asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, for a night devoid of nightmares and visions.