The repetitive dance, same steps to different music.
WARNING: This fanfiction contains swearing, malexmale, violence, child abuse
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Characters ©
Chapter 32
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HP
Harry woke slowly, his head felt heavy as it usually did after taking a sleeping draught. He had a pain in his arm where he'd slept on it all day but he felt refreshed and a little calmer then he had in the morning.
Wandering into the kitchen he noticed the clock on the wall, it pointed at eight pm, while an outer hand pointed at past dinnertime. Nothing looked like it had been disturbed, so that meant Severus hadn't been back to eat.
Rolling his sleeves up Harry smiled, he may be a failure, but at least he could cook a decent meal and if Severus had been down in the lab all day like Harry suspected, then he should be famished. And maybe... maybe they could talk over dinner, and he could finally tell someone the truth.
The idea made him cringe, but there was a sliver of determination that kept the thought in his head.
Severus had come back and stayed the night.
Harry needed to tell him.
Searching through the cupboards Harry began collecting his ingredients.
SS
Severus flicked his wrist and violently crossed another possibility off the list. He was getting through these faster than he had anticipated, he was already half way down the list, having chosen to be rid of the easier and more unlikely options before moving onto the harder combinations.
The next stage would be a difficult one and more dangerous as the reactions were highly unstable and very little was known about them.
He stretched and felt his back pop but it was not as painful as the cramps he used to get in his own body, however he had also noticed that hours of stirring strained his muscles, while in his old body he was able to go on for days. Not that Harry's body was unfit, the boy had obviously spent hours practicing Quidditch, the way the muscles moved and bunched under the skin...
Severus stopped that thought before it continued.
Harry was beautiful in a slender way.
He cursed.
However it was true, he couldn't deny it. Not that he needed to. Finding something beautiful was no crime, but the smaller, fleeting feelings that escaped when he thought of Potter in that sense would have been so much easier to hide away if he'd found Potter unbearable to look at.
Lily had been beautiful too.
But her sons beauty effected him so much more because he could see it was a broken beauty. And maybe that was the quality that drew him toward the boy.
He was broken.
But that didn't mean he couldn't be mended.
Severus dropped a few lacewings in and stirred.
He would have to concentrate on the potion.
Concentrate on the potion.
Severus shook his head.
The potion.
That was what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. He could have been brewing his potions in his lab in peace, still comfortable with the fact he hated Potter.
But he would have been wrong.
He would have still been under Voldemort's thumb, it wouldn't have been long before he slipped and made a mistake or Voldemort would have lost interest in him. He had been useless as a go between anyway, Voldemort had been playing with him since the beginning.
He wouldn't have been able to help the young man that reminded him so much of Lilly.
The potion turned a deep red.
He threw in a Snagert. Luckily the base for the potion was easy to brew, a little harder than standard fifth year potion, but nothing that posed a problem to him, it was just the end combination that puzzled him. The explosion had been almost simultaneous with the jar breaking the surface of the potion so that would have meant that only a few black beetle eyes should have reacted. But he had already experimented with over a quarter of a jar of beetle eyes.
He had tested different times and quantities. Now he worried that it was more complicated than that, perhaps the beetle eyes had been stored in a jar that had been used for something else. The violent reaction did hint to Boganda mucus, it was often used in potions as a fast reacting catalyst, however it held no other properties and would not have been able to create the body switch. It needed something to react with.
Severus watched the potion bubbling before him. They had been student ingredients.
Of course.
He frowned.
Sometimes shop keepers took advantage of the limited potion knowledge that students had, and gave them ingredients that weren't of the standard he, as a potions master, used. He had given the students a list of safe Apocrathys, but often they never listened, Potter especially. He mused; this potion could depend on where Harry had gotten his ingredients.
He stirred the potion in an anti-clockwise direction, just a little longer. Bottle of black beetle eyes held waiting over the bubbling liquid.
A startled cry made him jump and drop the bottle.
He was at the door before the series of loud crashes on the other side ended.
He pulled the door open.
And everything exploded.
HP
Harry woke feeling better than he thought he would, having just tripped and fallen head over heels down the stairs carrying a tray of food. He still felt out of place though, his back ached, and the muscles in his arms protested as he tried to sit up. It felt like he had been standing over a hot cauldron all day, stirring.
He must have hit his head hard, everything was blurred.
Pushing the dead weight off him he noticed that everything was covered in a horrid slime that smelt of a warm stewing swamp. Next thing he noticed made his heart stop and jump into his throat.
He thrust his glasses on his nose and stared.
The dead weight he had pushed off himself had been the body of Professor Severus Snape, long dark hair, crooked nose, the dark tattoo revealed from beneath a rolled up sleeve.
He looked down at his hands, they were strangely familiar and different at the same time. He had grown used to the long delicate fingers, but these were calloused Quidditch player hands. He squeezed them into a fist and opened them again.
He was back in his own body again!
"You did it Severus!" His own voice sounded strange to his own ears, but he couldn't help the grin that broke across his face as he moved closer to the Professor. Shaking the man's shoulder a little he bent over, listening for his breath.
It was there, strong and steady as the heart beat he felt on the long pale throat. The man had passed out, but seemed to be stable. Harry frowned, he was a little worried, but remembered that they had both fainted when this had first happened, Severus had woken earlier than him, perhaps it was something to do with the younger body.
He felt the magic he had lost sit in the pit of his stomach, it was wild, uncontrollable, but it was there. He had missed it, Severus's magic had felt different more restrained.
He bent down and touched the man's cheek lightly, still not quite believing he was back in his own body, and slightly saddened that he no longer had the advantage of feeling the smooth pale skin beneath his fingertips.
Onyx eyes snapped open with a fire that Harry had never been able to put in them.
"Get your hands off me Potter." The snarl broke, and the man blinked.
Harry couldn't help grinning as the man sat up, disorientated.
"I..." Harry threw himself at the man, laughing a little breathlessly as his arms came around the man's neck. "I feel great!"
The man stiffened in the embrace before Harry was roughly pushed away. However Harry caught the wonder and relief in the man's eyes, before he frowned.
"I feel like I've been tossed down the stairs." The man grimaced and Harry ducked his head.
"I was bringing you dinner-" but before he could finish the other had sprung to his feet.
"The potion!" Harry blinked as Severus rushed past him and into the destroyed lab. Harry followed slowly, getting use to his own legs again, he stopped at the doorway. The lab was a mess, and in the middle Severus was searching through it.
"Hn." Triumphantly the man held up a bottle. "It was the rubber stopper."
Harry blinked, and Severus chuckled at the silence.
"I don't know why I didn't think of it. The rubber stopper. Boganda mucus, Newt liver and glue. Animal bone, most likely dragon, as their bones are suppose to be impervious to magical manipulation, making it perfect for storage purposes." He seemed to pause, thinking. "but that doesn't mean their magic wouldn't react to a catalyst."
Harry smiled, trying to hide the grin. The man in the centre of the room stood tall and foreboding, a scowl on his face, his eyes hard as he thought. Harry felt a shiver up his spine at the sight, he wanted, no needed to touch, devour, feel, his body cried out for something, anything.
Adrenaline and excitement pulsed in Harry's blood, he had felt so tired when they had first been caught up in this accident, when he had been pulled into a foreign body, but this time around he felt full of life, felt his magic flaring at his presence, welcoming him back.
He took a lurching step forward without meaning to. The man in the centre turned to look at him.
"Harry?" Harry heard the uncertainty in the voice before it gained a hard edge as he lurched forward. "Potter what are you doing?"
Everything was hazy.
The world spun.
He could feel everything.
Wanted more.
Not enough.
Spinning.
Grey.
"It was too much for you."
The voice distant, soothed his splitting headache.
His mouth felt dry, his tongue thick and heavy.
"How-" His throat hurt.
He tried again.
"What happened?"
His eyelids were too heavy to open, though he tried.
"You fainted Potter. That much should be obvious to even someone as slow as you."
Harry cringed at the hard voice. It felt like they had fallen back into their old roles.
"You've been out for eight hours." The voice started again, softer this time, "I wasn't able to lift you, I couldn't touch you, you were covered in magic that repelled any spell I tried to cast so you're still in the lab. Your magic's as stubborn as you are boy."
There was a pause and Harry heard the other shift.
"The switch must have short circuited your magic, so to speak."
Harry smiled drawing in a ragged breath.
"How muggle of you."
"Don't test my patience, Harry, or you can spend the night here covered in this disgusting mess."
The use of his name brought a tired smile to his lips, things weren't going to be the same. Severus had used his name. A wave of exhaustion washed over him and though he tried to fight the oncoming darkness he drifted on the verge of consciousness. He almost let go before he heard a disgruntled sigh, followed by a grunt he felt more than heard as he was picked up.
He felt himself snuggle into the arms before he remembered nothing more.
SS
Severus grunted as the weight in his arms shifted. He could feel the bruises from the boy's clumsiness retaliate, but he ignored them. Another of his robes was ruined by the boy, he had changed a few hours ago when Harry had seemed stable, now he was covered in slime from the young man in his arms.
He frowned, he had felt the first twinges of fear when he had looked up and seen Harry lurch toward him. There had been power radiating off him, enticing, ensnaring. It hadn't been the magic the frightened him, but the boys eyes, predatory, demanding but pleading at the same time, and his reaction to it.
Severus had felt the same when he had woken, a little bruised, but elated, he could feel his magic realigning itself, could feel his whole body humming, brimming with something he couldn't quite define.
He'd felt the need as well.
He'd needed to connect with the magic he had left behind, the body that had been his for just a little while. Had needed to touch it, feel it, become whole with it, merging of magic, bodies and souls.
One.
Whole.
Complete.
He shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if Harry hadn't slipped into unconsciousness, the look in his eyes had drawn Severus closer than he should have been. The need had been so great, to want to complete himself, to complete the other, to fill that gap, that void that had always been there but never noticed.
He could feel it now pulling at the edge of his mind as he shifted the young man in his arms, placing him down on the bed. The sleeping face was so peaceful; it calmed what churned within him.
His fingers danced across the smooth skin with a will of their own, before he snatched his hand back and stalked out of the room slamming the door without a backwards glance. As soon as he had broken contact with the boys skin his fingertips had started to burn, the need surged.
Severus bowed his head breathing heavily. He wanted to throw the door open, go back in and...
Touch.
Connect.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
This need was unnatural.
Brought on by the potion, the switching of bodies. Of course he would want to realign himself with the magic he had lost, the boy was powerful and the magic still drew him towards it. Untamed, wild, it played on his instincts, pulled at his subconscious.
Maybe if he just went to bed he'd wake up a little more in control of himself. By tomorrow it would have faded, he would be familiar once more with his own body, with himself. He wouldn't feel this keening need pulling him toward Hary.
He stumbled into his room.
Thought twice and locked the door.
And grimacing downed a strong sleeping draught.
Tomorrow then.
He sighed.
HP.
Harry again woke to darkness, but this time his eyes were open. His mind felt heavy and unordered.
He couldn't think properly.
A small Lumos charm under his breath brought his room into light, and revealed his sludge covered clothes. He sat up pulling a face at the way his fingers stuck together, staggering to the bathroom.
His movements seemed automatic, everything was like it was in slow motion, and all he could do was watch.
Finishing his shower in a daze he dried himself with the nearest towel, before he noticed a small crack that led to Severus's room. He blinked, feeling suddenly drawn to it. Stepping closer he opened the door letting the bathroom light spill in.
To feel.
Severus lay still on his side, back to Harry.
To touch.
Without thinking Harry turned off the light, padded over to the bed crawled under the covers and snuggled against the potions master's back.
To want.
He could feel the man breathing steadily.
To need.
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To be cont'