Concentrate on anything else except this all consuming need. Concentrate.
WARNING: This fanfiction contains swearing, malexmale, violence, child abuse
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Characters ©
Chapter 33
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SS
He knew he dreamt.
It wasn't because he was back in his own body.
Nor was it because Harry Potter lay beside him half naked, barely covered by a damp towel. Those sorts of dreams he had shoved, half-remembered, to the back of his mind.
It may have been the fact that the loud noise that had startled him awake was Sirius Black as he slumped to the ground. He couldn't even count the number of times he had dreamt that, though through much more violent means.
The other reason he knew it was a dream was because he had never seen the headmasters eyes twinkle that insanely bright before. That only happened in his nightmares.
"Good morning Severus. I see everything has worked out well, just as I imagined it would." Dumbledore, disgustingly chipper, turned to Remus, who stared fixedly at the wall beside Severus's head. "I think we should perhaps move Mr. Black to the living room so the two men can get dressed and ready for this wonderful new day!"
Severus didn't miss the extra twinkle in the man's eye or the way Remus almost choked on his tongue.
"Where have you been?" Severus snarled as his mood deteriorated. It was becoming clear that perhaps this wasn't a dream.
"All in good time my boy, now put a shirt on and wake Harry for us. We'll be in the kitchen. Don't take too long!" They left, Remus dragging the dead weight of Sirius.
Severus turned to the boy in his bed.
Harry had rolled onto his stomach, the towel slipping from his waist and revealing a single smooth globe of flesh, a few scars ran across the surface and Severus snatched his hand back before he traced one along the boy's buttocks.
He could suddenly smell the scent of the boy all over his skin, could hear the soft breath, could almost feel the steady beat of the boy's heart. He felt himself falling into the rhythm of the slow throbbing, sitting just below his ribs. It felt much like the need of the night before, but less frantic, less demanding, but stronger, more solid.
Throwing the covers off violently Severus stood, scowling at the boy in his had locked his door, he had taken a sleeping draught, and still the boy had managed to find a way to clamber into his bed.
The bathroom door was open.
Severus groaned.
"Potter, get up."
A swift swat to the boy's raven head.
"Get up boy."
Harry leapt to his feet, towel forgotten in the mess of sheets, before stumbling into standing position, eyes hardly open.
"Up, 'm up, Uncle. Sir. Sorry uncle." Severus blinked at the mumbled words and the cowering shoulders, and bent head.
"Harry." Severus frowned, fingers brushing the dark hair, guilt slicing through him as Harry flinched at the touch. "Harry..."
Emerald eyes glanced up before widening, suddenly become aware of the situation.
"Sorry." Severus watched as Harry ducked his head, cheeks flushed red, withdrawing as he stumbled a step back. "I just… I have to go." He fled from the room, the bathroom door shutting firmly behind him.
Severus picked up the towel the boy had been wearing.
The warm towel had already begun to cool.
The need in his chest pulsated.
HP
Harry backed away from the bathroom door that led to Severus's room, tripping on his own feet and landing hard on the cold tiles. The chill bit into his bare skin and almost brought tears to his eyes.
Why couldn't he do anything right?
The body language of the other man had screamed irritation and displeasure, and the way Harry had been woken, it had been too close to the times Vernon had started many of the early morning beatings when he had felt the need to punish him.
And now that they had their bodies back, why shouldn't everything return to normal. It wasn't like Severus had anything better to do with his time than baby-sit Harry, he probably wouldn't see the potions master until the next school year.
Harry took a deep breath.
Maybe it would be best if they pretended none of this had happened, that they still hated each other, that Harry was still the splitting image of his father, not some tainted freak.
But it was so hard to think when his head pounded violently, throbbing with a need that echoed through his whole being. He felt incomplete, like half of his magic had been left behind in the other body, like he needed to just connect, to become whole with the man in the next room.
His magic twisted into tight knots in his stomach.
It could feel it's other half on the other side of the door.
SS
Severus sat as his legs collapsed from under him. He needed to go out and see Dumbledore, fix this mess before Sirius woke, but all he could think of was Harry.
This need he felt, it wasn't natural, but it had invaded to his core, enticing him to follow the boy, to complete himself.
Only his weakening will kept him from getting up. These last few weeks had destroyed his views on Harry, the Golden Boy façade had crumpled to reveal a lost and broken child and a courageous and strong man. Severus wasn't sure which it was that attracted him more and more towards the teenager, but the way those emerald eyes had flashed with need the previous night…
And how they had flashed with fear and confusion this morning.
Severus cursed lightly under his breath, he had scared the young man without meaning to, re-enacting his Uncles behaviour. He would have to remember to be more careful around Harry, he couldn't afford to make mistakes if he was to claim the other as his own.
The thought sent a shiver of anticipation through him and he felt his control slip a little.
He should go see Dumbledore, before anything regrettable happened.
Pushing himself up from the bed, he stood.
HP
The need throbbed in him, his magic pounded against his weakening restraints, a whimper escaped into the tense silence.
Harry pulled himself into a corner where he curled up, clutching at his hammering skull, listening to his harsh breaths clash and echo off the bathroom tiles.
He counted silently, trying to calm his racing nerves, trying to clear his mind.
Concentrating on his breathing
Concentrating on his beating heart.
Concentrating.
He didn't notice the hitch in his magic, the calming of his need.
The opening of the bathroom door, the steady footsteps.
"Harry..."
The voice was accompanied with a touch that burnt straight through to Harry's core. A whine escaped his throat, the need raced against his temples.
"Look at me, Harry."
Severus knelt in front of him, his hand coaxing Harry's chin up.
He couldn't look at the other man, knew if he did he'd be lost. Knew he wouldn't be able to let go of the image that had planted itself in his head when he had been forced to look into the Mirror of Erised. He had looked so happy, Severus had been smiling. But everything now was so wrong.
Severus knew what a freak he was, he had seen his body, he had seen his family, his home, he had seen what Harry saw during his nightmares, what he felt. Knew just how tainted and disgusting he was.
"You're stronger than I am, boy." Fingertips fluttered against his cheek and Harry glanced up at the comment.
Severus's eyes, darker then Harry had seen them, were caught in some internal struggle.
Why couldn't anything be easy? Why couldn't Harry just lean in and capture a kiss?
Why couldn't he have what he desired?
His magic thrummed in agreement, shaping and moulding his need. He could have what he wanted if he gave up control, he could claim what was rightfully his, hadn't he claimed it before?
Harry flinched, a wave of self-disgust hit him. He didn't deserve anything he desired.
A memory forced into his mind, Severus beneath him, a scream on his lips.
Blood.
Broken shards of onyx staring back at him.
A choked gasp.
Silenced by a kiss.
Harry's magic surged, but he could feel it being met by another force, lips connecting, souls binding, a hand in his hair and Harry was drowning in memory and present and all around him there was the deafening noise of a heartbeat.
Grasping at the world around him he clung to the others shoulders.
Magic danced over his skin tingling, followed by fingers, lips, teeth biting, he found himself responding, biting, nipping, tearing at fabric.
Everything burned and Harry could only sense the need to be complete, his magic pulled him on, setting his nerves on fire. He could feel hands all over him, skin pushing up against skin.
Need.
Stinging pain.
He gasped, air rushing into his lungs as he tried to squirm from the intrusion.
A kiss. He couldn't breath but the magic swelled in him, through him, twisting pain in to pleasure, pleasure into pain. There was too much to hold on to, magic crackled in and around them, skin on skin, soul to soul, breath on breath, and everything was so silent, all Harry wanted to do was scream.
The burning engulfed him and it felt like he was falling into darkness on waves of fire before everything froze and he choked back a wail, biting hard down on the skin offered to him, tasting blood on his tongue.
Blinding light and gasping breath.
Bodies heaving in the following stillness.
Breathless silence.
Completeness.
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To be cont'