Rating: M
Warnings: Slash, swearing, infidelity, ignores epilogue, probably a bit OOC
Pairings: SS/HP and HP/GW
Genres: Romance, Drama, Angst
Summary: Harry's engaged to Ginny, but then along comes Severus Snape. SLASH, SS/HP, POST DH
Chapter Eleven: Unhealthy Obsession
When Harry awoke the next morning, cosy and warm in his bed and wrapped up in his duvet, it had taken him quite some time to realise that the dream (or nightmare) he'd been having of Snape sucking his cock hadn't actually been a dream at all. He'd opened his eyes, yawned, turned on his side, and the realisation of what he'd done had hit him like the Cruciatus Curse. It had been real. It had been very real and the proof of that was lying next to him, fast asleep and snoring.
And so for the next few minutes, Harry had been unable to do anything but stare in shock at the man – man! – lying next to him in bed. His mind a blissful blank, all he'd been able to do was register the useless fact that, in the soft morning sunlight shining through the curtains he'd failed to close the night before, Snape looked very much out of place against the lemony yellow of the duvet, the colour giving his skin an almost jaundice look.
After another long moment had passed, Harry had shaken himself and let his eyes take in more of the sight before him. He hadn't wanted to see, he really hadn't, but it had been like some sort of morbid fascination – he couldn't help but look. Large, hooked nose, pale skin, greasy hair…and memories of that mouth wrapped around his cock.
Somehow, he'd managed to gather enough strength to turn away. He'd groaned as he'd brought his knees up underneath the covers and buried his head in his hands.
It had happened, it had really happened, and God, what a mess of things he'd made in allowing it to happen. There was, of course, no one to blame but himself. He'd failed to push Snape away. He'd let the man seduce him. He'd let him into his home – into his bed – and for the life of him he didn't know why!
He'd never done anything like this before. Never. Not once. He'd never even been tempted. Sure, there had been offers, and plenty of opportunities – women throwing themselves at him in Diagon Alley, flirting outrageously, uttering promises of discretion – but he'd never been interested, had never even entertained the idea for the slightest second.
And Ginny knew all about it of course; some of the women had even approached him with Ginny right there, right next to him. But she just found the whole thing amusing; she took great pride in being the only one Harry wanted, the only one Harry had ever slept with, the only one who knew what Harry was like in the throes of passion.
But not anymore. Here he was, in bed with Snape. They may not have had actual sex, but what did that matter? Snape had seen him naked, Snape had sucked his cock, Snape had brought him to an incredible orgasm and…
And God. Just…God. He couldn't stop thinking of Ginny. His chest tightened painfully when he imagined the look on her face should she ever find out what he'd done. She was such a good, sweet person and she didn't deserve this sort of treatment. She deserved respect and loyalty and love. She did not deserve to have her fiancé in bed with a bloody man!
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
But before he could even begin to fathom a way out of this, Snape began to stir. Harry lifted his head slowly and peered at the man next to him, almost fearful of what he might find.
Snape let out a long sigh and his eyes fluttered open. He yawned and stretched out his arms before letting his gaze settle on Harry, who hitched up the duvet to cover his bare chest.
Harry could have sworn he saw a smirk grace those thin lips for a second. He frowned and turned away, swallowing audibly.
"Morning," Snape said, his voice rough and deep with sleep.
Harry gave a slight nod of his head in greeting.
"I haven't slept that well in years," Snape went on, pushing himself up. "We should do this more often."
Harry's head snapped back to him and he glared. He tried to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach.
"Can I use your shower?" Snape asked, smiling.
Harry, unable to speak, nodded. He watched as Snape got out from beneath the covers, but he soon turned away again when it quickly became apparent that Snape was (obviously) naked. He fought the blush creeping into his cheeks with all his might and gave a sigh of relief when the door to the en-suite bathroom closed.
He flopped down on the bed and covered his face with the pillow. The moment he heard the shower switch on, he let out a muffled scream, kicking his legs out in front of him. He threw the pillow away and combed his hands through his hair, trying so hard not to pull it all out.
You stupid, stupid fool! You utter idiot. You liar, you cheat, you –
"Unnncle Haaarrrry!"
Harry's eyes grew wide and his heart beat wildly as he heard hurried footsteps running up the stairs. He'd only just managed to compose himself and sit up when the door burst open and Teddy came skipping in.
He grinned when he saw that Harry was awake and he ran over to the bed, getting up and jumping up and down.
"I want breakfast, I want breakfast!"
Harry took a deep, silent breath and forced himself to smile.
"Good morning, Teddy," he said kindly. "Did you have a nice sleep?"
The blue haired boy nodded and continued bouncing up and down.
"Come on, Uncle Harry. It's morning! I want breakfast."
"I'll be down it a minute, alright? You go down and watch TV."
But it appeared that Teddy had stopped listening. His hair went green has he stilled and he turned his face towards the closed bathroom door.
"Who's in there?" he asked. Harry thought he sounded rather suspicious until he reminded himself that his godson was five years old. It was probably just simple curiosity.
He almost breathed a sigh of relief when Teddy then turned to him with a grin on his face.
"Is Auntie Ginny back?"
"No," Harry said, trying to smile back. "No, I'm just about to get in the shower. I'm just letting the water run for a minute, to warm up."
"Couldn't you just use magic?" he asked.
"Its better the muggle way," he said quickly.
"Oh." He appeared to think on it for a short while longer, before starting his bouncing again. "Hey, is Uncle Sev'rus still here? D'you think he'll play cards with me again?"
Harry's stomach squirmed as he thought of the naked man in the next room.
"Severus has gone home," he said to the boy. "He went last night after you'd gone to bed." Then, thinking quickly (and therefore not sensibly) he added, "Hey, Teddy? You're not going to tell anyone Uncle Severus was here, are you?"
Ted stopped jumping again.
"Why?" he asked.
"Well, because," Harry explained, hating himself, "when they hear that Uncle Severus visited us and that they all missed him…well, they might get upset, you see. So it's best to just leave it and not tell them, OK?"
"Oh. OK. Is he going to visit again?"
"Uncle Severus is a very busy man. He might not get the time."
"Oh." He paused. "Can I have ice cream for breakfast?"
After Harry had managed to get Teddy to go downstairs – and after he'd promised that yes, he could have ice cream for breakfast (and no, it as not a bribe!) – Harry fell back onto the bed once more, lost in his own misery. He'd lied to his godson; and worse, he'd made his godson lie for him. What the hell was happening? He felt like he was slowly losing control of everything around him.
Well, no matter. He just had to regain control, that was all. He had to tell Snape to back the hell off and then he needed to put him and everything else behind him. No more mistakes.
The shower shutting off made Harry look up. He quickly tried to compose an argument in his head, something that told Snape in no uncertain terms to leave him alone. He didn't want to allow room for crossed wires or any other such nonsense. After all, Snape seemed to know exactly what he was doing and Harry was well aware he needed to keep his wits about him to get his message across quite clear.
After a short while, the door opened and Snape stepped out, wearing nothing more than a white towel around his waist. Harry fully expected Snape to taunt him by dropping the towel and dressing slowly in front of him, so it was a surprise (not to mention a relief) when the older man seated himself on the edge of the bed and began carefully pulling on his boxers, and then his trousers.
Harry watched, waiting for the right moment to tell Snape exactly what he thought. He wasn't going to stand for this any longer; enough was enough. Things had gone far too far and Snape…
And Snape was looking at him. Harry swallowed and turned away, praying the man would just hurry up and throw a shirt on. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he almost got out of bed, remembering at the last second that he was still naked.
"Don't touch me," he said, shrugging away.
"That's not what you were saying last night," Snape reminded him with a smirk.
"Yeah, well, last night was a mistake," he told him. "You're deluded if you think it meant something."
Snape gave a heavy sigh. "So we're back to that again are we?"
"Back to that?" Harry repeated, stuttering. "We were never...We...You sound as though we've made progress or something."
"We slept together, Potter," he pointed out.
"We didn't sleep together. We…you just…you know…and then we went to sleep. It's hardly sex."
"It could have been," said Snape.
Harry shook his head, determined. "I wouldn't have let it get that far."
"Are you sure about that?" asked Snape, amused. "You seemed to enjoy yourself quite a lot last night. I certainly don't recall hearing any complaints, and I did give you the chance to back down."
"Just stop it, Snape!" he shouted suddenly. "This isn't funny! This isn't some game! I'm getting married."
"So I hear," Snape muttered.
"And even if I wasn't…I'm not gay! I'm not attracted to you. I don't want you in my bed; I don't want to be kissing you or touching you or…or…just…"
"Harry…"
"Just get out."
Harry stopped, breathing rather heavily and glaring at Snape. It was an effort not to reach for his wand and curse the man out of his home and he was almost shaking from the restraint.
Snape was simply looking at him. There was no anger, no confusion, no hurt, no malice…he just simply looked at Harry. Then, slowly, he reached out a hand. Harry slapped it away before he even knew what Snape's intention was.
"Get out," he repeated.
"Harry, I think –"
"Out!"
Snape shook his head, unbelieving, and then he snorted. "Fine," he said. He got to his feet, pulling on his shirt. "Fine," he said again. "If you want to live in denial, then you live in denial. But I'm telling you right now, this whole set-up you have here…," he waved his hands around the room, "…a big house, a fiancée, future children…it's not you. You're adventurous, you're different; you're not like everyone else, you don't follow the crowd. You're going to be tied down and you're going to be bored out of your skull."
Harry glared at him coldly, hating him, damning him, wishing him gone.
"Fuck you, Snape," he growled. "You don't know enough about me to make such assumptions."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. Really."
Snape paused as he shrugged on his robes. He looked back at Harry.
"I know I'll see you on Friday."
"In your dreams."
Over in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, a tall, darkly dressed man sat with his back pressed against a large, white tombstone. His head was in one hand, a bottle of Ogden's in the other. At his feet sat a torn picture; the red haired woman in the photograph laughed and smiled as Severus gulped down whatever little remained in the bottle before tossing it aside.
He wasn't depressed. He wasn't angry, or even ashamed, at being thrown out by Harry Potter. He was, however, deeply unsure of how to proceed or, indeed, if to proceed was the right course of action.
Last night had been amazing. It was rare Severus used that word, but there was nothing else to describe it. He'd never felt so connected to someone. What they'd done was great and it had felt good, but what Severus was referring to was what had happened afterwards, when Harry had fallen asleep and Severus had just held him. It had been an impulse thing, obviously – Severus Snape did not cuddle. But last night…he had. A psychiatrist would probably have told him that he'd been denied affection for too long, and maybe that was true, he mused. Severus was still only coming to terms with the way his life had turned out and realising that he still wanted Harry, even after he'd had him, was quite disconcerting.
He sighed and glanced down at the picture again.
He remembered vividly the day he'd turned up at Grimmauld Place in search of that photograph. He'd been in a right mess, tears streaming down his face, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The students had been rebelling at school, the teachers out to get him, and the Dark Lord had been piling so much pressure on him, so many rules and expectations, so much death and torture, that when he'd tried and failed to picture Lily in his mind, he'd gone into a blind panic. He'd rushed over to London and had broken into the house with ease. He'd raided Sirius Black's bedroom in the hope of finding something, anything, his whole body trembling, wanting nothing more than to scream and scream and scream.
The moment he'd found it, he'd collapsed against the side of the bed. He'd torn the photo in two and for a moment he'd let calm descend all around him. He had her, his lovely Lily, smiling and laughing like she always had (although less and less around Severus). After a moment, he'd picked up the letter the photograph had been with and had ripped away the words "Lots of love, Lily." He'd left the house a composed man.
And so from then on, every time he'd felt himself swaying away from the path that was before him, every time he'd felt scared or overwhelmed, and even the times he'd felt tempted, sorely tempted, to just give in and join with the Dark Lord, world be damned, he'd looked at Lily's picture. One glance at her and he'd been reminded of all the reasons he needed to keep going. Of the reasons he needed to help Potter.
And now here he was, trying to get into Potter's pants. It felt so disrespectful of Lily, but he couldn't help the way he was feeling. Harry had given him hope of a life worth living.
The boy was in denial, but Severus couldn't blame him. After everything that had happened in his life, it was only natural that he'd want some sort of order and normality. But Severus was convinced that there was much more to Harry.
And if he was wrong? Well, he'd already let things come this far. He'd already put his friendship with him on the line when he'd told himself he wouldn't. What was the harm in going on? Especially when there was nothing left to lose.
Once again, Harry found himself in desperate need of someone to talk to. He'd made an error and he was paying the price, but strangely it seemed ten times as worse without a friend to turn to.
He couldn't quite believe what he'd done and he didn't know which bit disturbed him the most – the fact that he'd cheated, or the fact that he'd been with a man.
He just couldn't get his head around it. Why was this happening to him? And, more importantly, why was he letting it? Maybe Snape was right; maybe Harry was adventurous. And maybe it was that adventurous streak that was causing him to create unnecessary drama all around him. Things were never dull, that was for sure.
But right now, at this very moment, he needed a friend. He needed to talk through his mistakes, his problems, in order to get a clear idea of what he should do next.
He couldn't talk to Ron for obvious reasons – he'd cheated on his sister and Ron would be well within his rights to curse Harry into next week. And Hermione was Ron's girlfriend, not to mention Ginny's best friend – she was a double "no", despite her forgiving and understanding nature. Andromeda would think he was a bad influence on Teddy and his mates at work were bound to gossip. He needed someone who wasn't connected to the important things in his life.
Not a single person sprung to mind.
So it looked like this would have to be something Harry would have to sort out on his own. It was fully what he deserved. He'd never been so ashamed, but he couldn't afford to let it get to him. He needed to be himself again. He needed to throw himself into something, distract himself from thinking on things too much. He needed to concentrate on his life. He was getting married to Ginny and he was going to give her the best possible wedding she could ever ask for! He owned her that much.
"What do you think about black bridesmaid dresses?" Ginny asked, flicking through one of the numerous magazines scattered about the living room. Everywhere Harry looked there was something to do with weddings and he was only beginning to understand just how much work planning one required.
He looked up from the brochure on cakes he'd been pursuing (who'd have thought there were so many different styles?) and glanced at the magazine in Ginny's lap.
"Yeah, they're nice," he said, nodding. "Who are our bridesmaids again?"
"Hermione, Luna, and Gwenog," she reminded him. "And I was thinking of putting the flower girl in pink." She reached for another magazine and flicked through its pages quickly. "This one here," she said, pointing to a fluffy, baby pink dress. "What do you think?"
"Victoire will look adorable in that," Harry agreed. "Have you decided on flowers yet?"
"Pink, purple, and white maybe? But I don't know what kind yet, I'm still looking."
Ginny had only been back two days and already they had covered a lot of ground concerning their wedding. They'd pretty much gotten stuck in straight away and Harry was actually enjoying himself.
The first thing to decide had been the venue and that had been over and done with in the blink of an eye. Harry had let Ginny know that money wasn't an issue and he'd fully expected her to take advantage of that, booking an expensive and elegant manor house. However, he'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd learnt that her heart was set on the large garden behind The Burrow, just like Bill and Fleur had done six years previous. Hosting their wedding at the Weasley family home meant they had free reign of the event and didn't have to abide by any restrictions professional venues may have imposed.
They had also agreed quite early on to have Molly and Andromeda cater the event. They'd offered to do it for nothing but Harry had absolutely insisted on paying. In the end they had allowed Harry and Ginny to pay for ingredients, but the service would be free of charge. Now all they had to do was decide on a menu.
Invitations were due to be sent out next week and Harry had only just finished compiling his list of guests. He'd debated heavily over whether or not to invite the Dursley's; he'd only seen them once since the end of the war, but they exchanged Christmas cards every year. In the end he'd decided it was only polite to invite them, although he didn't really have much hope of them actually turning up.
For their honeymoon they had decided upon spending a week in the gorgeous and relaxing Maldives. Harry had pushed for two weeks but work had only allowed him one, despite having let them know in advance. Christmas and New Year were busy times for the Aurors and they couldn't afford to have the Head Auror absent for both. But Ginny had been happy – it was very rare they got a holiday after all, what with their busy schedules, and so a week in the Maldives sounded like utter paradise.
Somehow, somewhere along the line, Witch Weekly had gotten wind of their arrangements and had been in touch, asking if they could have exclusive coverage of the wedding for their magazine, offering up to five thousand galleons for the rights. Before Harry had even gotten a chance to word a negative, but polite, reply, Ginny, along with brothers Ron and George, had told them where to shove their offer.
And so after two whole days of planning and ordering and publicity control, all that was left to do now was choose the flowers, organise a band, and buy the outfits.
As Harry sat browsing through a muggle brochure on wedding suits, he had to contain his surprise at how fast things had suddenly progressed. He'd expected the arrangements to take weeks, maybe even months, but certainly not days. He supposed having your own venue, not to mention caterer, made things a lot easier, but he was still amazed at how much simpler things were with magic.
OK. Perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. Even though magic was an enormous help when it came to timekeeping and organisation, it also had the ability to confuse and hinder things. All you had to do was look at the Dark Lord to see how bad magic could make things. It was like everything else though; the results depended upon your intentions.
And Harry had fully intended upon having the wedding arrangements to occupy his time. He hadn't expected magic to make things go so quick, or to have Ginny know exactly what she wanted. He'd wanted a welcome distraction, something to work towards, but now, with the big stuff out of the way in a matter of days, his mind was, once again, free to wander into dangerous territory.
Perhaps he'd been too hard on Snape. Maybe Snape hadn't meant to be all…manipulative and stuff. Maybe that was just what Snape was all about? Maybe he was just that insecure that he needed to hide behind a malicious mask to protect himself?
Harry snorted to himself and tossed the magazine on the table. Listen to him, making excuses! Snape had just tried to ruin one of the best things in Harry's life and Harry…what? Pitied him? He wasn't going to feel guilty for yelling at Snape.
By the time Friday morning came around, Harry was confident that his friendship with Snape was well and truly over. He regretted that things had ended the way they had, but really, what else could he have done? Snape was more trouble than he was worth. Was it any wonder the man found it so hard to make, and keep, friends if this was how he treated them, like they were some form of entertainment, there to be teased and mocked? Seriously, that man had issues.
But that evening, as Harry sat in the living room with Ginny, going through some more of their wedding arrangements, he realised, with annoyance, that he couldn't keep his mind off Snape. He hated him, there was no denying that, but at the same time he felt an unsettling amount of worry. Maybe Harry was just being naïve, but what if Snape needed help?
He shook his head at himself. Maybe Harry needed help.
"I'm going to get drink," he announced to Ginny, standing up from the sofa. "Do you want one?"
She shook her head and Harry shuffled off to the kitchen, welcoming the privacy it afforded him. He opened the fridge and grabbed a butterbeer before sliding into a seat at the table.
Despite everything, despite Snape's sudden vindictiveness (if you could call it that), Harry still felt the need to see him. For one thing, it seemed to him that Snape hadn't gotten the message the last time they'd spoken, if his parting words were anything to go by. And for another, Harry hated leaving things unfinished. And, well…
He sighed and took a swig of the cold drink.
Was it wrong of him to want to see Snape again? He couldn't get the man out of his head. He was…curious. He was angry and he was curious. Yes. And that meant…
God, he couldn't even think straight anymore. The bottom line was…Snape was a huge part of his life. He was someone Harry had history with and he was now someone who had possibly opened a new chapter in Harry's life, a chapter that needed to be closed, finished. Because no matter how much Harry whined and ranted and denied everything, facts were facts. It wasn't to cheat on Ginny, and it wasn't fair to string her along. Harry needed to get things sorted. For all their sakes.
Harry banged on the door with his fist, the sound of it strengthening him, spurring him on. He didn't care if the neighbours looked out of their windows to see what the commotion was; he didn't care if they came out to gawp at him; all he wanted was for Snape to open this bloody door before he blasted it open himself!
He was just beginning to contemplate pulling out his wand when the door to the cottage flew open. Snape glared, furious at him, no doubt, for making a scene on his doorstep, but Harry pushed passed him and into the house.
"Let's get one thing straight," he said loudly, spinning around to face the man. "I am not here for a repeat performance. I am not here because I'm attracted to you. I am here to tell you that this stops right now. I don't want this. Do you understand? I don't want any of this."
"Really?" Snape purred. He closed the door.
Harry gritted his teeth. "Yes. Really. I don't know what you're playing at, but it stops now. It isn't fair, Snape."
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," he said, rolling his eyes. "You're here, aren't you? I told you you would be."
"I'm here to tell you to leave me alone," he snapped. "If you want to carry on being friends, then fine. But you don't touch, you don't kiss, you don't flirt, and you don't make suggestions. Is that understood?"
Snape snorted and gave Harry a cool look. "Are you giving me orders, Potter?"
Harry swallowed. "It's sexual harassment," he said.
Snape let out a bark of laughter and moved a few strides into the room.
"Sexual harassment?" he echoed with amusement. "Is that what you call it when you come over here, asking me to kiss you? Is that what you call it when you don't say 'no', when I give you every opportunity to do so?"
Harry bit his tongue and looked away. Snape took a step closer and Harry felt himself shiver.
"So," said Snape, measuring his words, "you don't want me to touch you?"
Harry shook his head, still not looking at the man.
"And you don't want me to kiss you?"
Harry swallowed again, trying hard to ignore the images his mind seemed intent on showing him. He licked his dry lips.
"Snape," he warned, "Don't do this. I'm not that kind of person. I don't cheat on people. I love Ginny."
"I'm sure you do."
"I do," he said. "Why are you doing this?"
Snape, who had been steadily increasing the gap between them, took one final step. His body was almost flush against Harry's, who could feel the heat rolling off him in intoxicating waves, drowning him.
"Because you're letting me," Snape replied, barely a whisper, and he leaned forwards and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips. When he pulled away, there was no smirk on his face. When he looked at Harry, his expression was open and sincere. And Harry, whose morals were rapidly draining away, felt nothing but lust well up inside him, lighting every nerve, and before he could even think about what to do or how to respond, he threw himself at the other man.
Lips met in a heated kiss, caressing, devouring, and Harry never wanted it to end. He never wanted to let go of Snape and he fisted his hands tightly in the man's shirt, clawing savagely at the material, trying to tear the barrier away.
Somehow, in a haze of passion, Harry managed his objective. He shoved the shirt furiously from Snape's body, barely containing a moan as his hands moved over hard, broad shoulders. The kiss broke as Harry looked down at the pale chest. He did nothing but stare as he tried to make himself realise that this was happening, actually happening, and it was wrong and…and Snape…
That train of thought disappeared into a tunnel as Harry felt hands at his waist. Snape had managed to remove Harry's belt without his notice and was now working on ridding him of his suddenly too-tight jeans and boxers. He made to protest, to say something, anything to stop the proceedings, but before he could even begin to form words, he felt his trousers drop to the floor, quickly followed by his underwear.
Snape took a step back and to Harry it seemed he was admiring his work. There was a hungry look in his eyes that Harry recognised from their last "session" together. He shuddered.
Standing there with his erection peeking out from the bottom of his shirt, Harry felt horribly exposed and he loved it. He loved that Snape's eyes were on him, staring transfixed at his hard cock. He loved that Snape was getting aroused from the mere sight.
He knew he was blushing but he didn't care. He didn't have time to care. All he wanted was for Snape to touch him and he darted forwards so fast that he knocked the other man off his feet, tumbling down onto the sofa.
He quickly pushed himself up and moved to straddle Snape's lap. His exposed cock brushed against Snape's bare chest and he gasped as waves of pleasure shot through him. He latched on to Snape's mouth again and pushed himself as close to the man as he could possibly get.
The feeling was incredible. Two hard bodies pressed together, the sounds of their moans, the smell of their sweat…it was so raw, so masculine, so completely in a different world.
He felt Snape shift upwards and remembered that the other man still had his trousers on. He groaned in frustration as he lifted himself up, letting Snape make quick work of his pants, before sliding back down, this time onto a naked lap. He gasped loudly as his erection met another. It was so different to what he was used to, but it felt bloody good so he didn't care. He rocked his hips forwards, and then again and again and he felt no shame in it at all. He'd never felt anything quite like this and he was mesmerised, the shear ecstasy of the hard, rapid movements overtaking every thought and every sense.
For a second time, Snape demonstrated his skills as a lover and Harry could do nothing but enjoy every second, hips thrusting wildly, breath coming in pants. And as Harry dug his nails into Snape's back and lifted his head, the other man suddenly let out a loud grunt and stilled, his mouth wide, and Harry, shaking almost uncontrollably now, felt himself following, bucking his hips, riding out his orgasm, until he was completely and utterly spent.
Harry's head fell back down onto Snape's shoulder. And as he buried his head at Snape's neck, breathing heavily and fighting the tiredness that descended, he smiled.
A/N: The unedited version is again at the link in my profile.
I had MAJOR writer's block with this chapter. And I'm totally CRINGING at that last scene! Writer's block just wouldn't let me edit it so it ended up sounding weird and really, really bad, and the unedited version isn't much better. There's only a few paragraphs difference though. As someone pointed out, the unedited isn't all that graphic, but I wanna be on the safe side by posting it else where.
And sorry for the wait! I was on a roll as well - I did, what, 3 weeks and 3 updates? And then it all went silly again. Sorry.
Please review and let me know if I'm forgiven for the awfulness of this chapter! I should (hopefully!) be in the right mindset for the next one.
xx