Translation: Severus_divides_into_H
Beta: Leviosahex
Thank you girls!
25. The Punishment
I want you wanting me
I want what I see in your eyes
So give me something to be scared of
don't give me something to satisfy*
"How could he think that? What had gotten into him? To suspect that me... and Hermione..? That was just sick! How could that even enter his head?" Harry thought, as he walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. "And now I'm late! Just great!"
He should have been in detention with Snape ten minutes ago, but instead, he'd been listening to Ron's suspicious speculations about why he and Hermione had been behaving so strangely recently. Weasley had thrown a bunch of angry accusations at him, without once thinking that it could all just be one big misunderstanding. Harry could still hear his accusatory voice in his mind:
"So why have you been acting so strange since yesterday morning? Why did she go so red when she leant over to you? Why is she now avoiding you? And why does she still blush when you look at her! What happened between you two? Tell me the truth! How could you?! I'm your friend..."
At last Harry had lost his patience and yelled at him:
"You're an IDIOT!"
Anyone would lose it if they weren't given the opportunity to say something in their defense. Ron just couldn't accept that things might be quite different from what he was imagining. Finally, Harry hadn't been able to stand it any longer and had left, slamming the door behind him. He was now so angry he wanted to smash something.
Without bothering to knock, Harry entered Snape's office, and without a word he walked over to a chair, sat down, and focussed his trembling angry gaze on the fire. Severus hadn't even had the time to put down the book he was reading. However, he raised an eyebrow as if to say something sarcastic about Harry's lateness. However, seeing his fierce face had apparently changed his mind.
"What is it, Potter?" he asked, as he put the book down on the table.
"Nothing," Harry growled. "I feel great."
"So great that a little more of that and you'll make holes in my furniture," the man snorted.
Harry looked at his clenched fists, which were tightly grabbing at the armrests, and quickly removed them, trapping them between his knees.
"It's just... sometimes, some people behave as though their brains have come out of their ears!" he burst out.
"In my opinion, that happens far more often than "sometimes"," Snape replied calmly. Harry looked at him from the corner of his eye.
"I had an argument with Ron and Hermione," he spat. "And all because of our "conversation" during class yesterday. Hermione noticed that I was doing something under the desk, so she looked down and saw... you know what. And now she thinks I am a complete pervert who publicly jerks off. Now she is avoiding me all the time, as if expecting me to be masturbating at every step. And Ron... he noticed her strange behaviour and has begun to think Merlin knows what! He thinks we are together romantically or something. It's simply fucking wonderful!'' he finished, hitting the armrest.
Harry saw Severus cover his mouth with his hand. He could swear that he did it in an attempt to hide the smile that had surely appeared on his face. This wasn't something to laugh about!
"Well... " the man said after a moment, "for Miss Granger it must have been a really shocking sight. I doubt neither she or Weasley has any idea about such things." Harry felt his lips tremble. No, he should be angry! He couldn't laugh! "Just because she has never experienced it before, she believes that whoever does must be a pervert. You should consider yourself lucky that she has not reported the alarming fact that her best friend has a cock to the Head of your House." At these words, Harry couldn't help but snort. "This is a typical example of pretentious hypocrisy. If it causes fights, you should really look for more tolerant friends, Potter."
Harry nodded, smiling gratefully. He immediately felt better. A small part of his mind noticed that the way Snape's mouth pronounced the word "cock", was so damn... sexy.
"You're right, this isn't a reason for a fight. Tomorrow I'll talk to them and we'll probably make up," he said quietly.
"And now," Snape continued, "if you are done discussing your friends, maybe you can finally move on to what you have come here for?"
Harry couldn't stop the sharp tightening of his stomach. Severus always got to the point quickly...
"Where are we going to do it today?" he asked, smiling lasciviously.
The man looked at him with inscrutable expression on his face, then raised one eyebrow and curled his lips in a derisive smile, as he explained:
"I meant your punishment for having dared oppose me in class. Write three hundred times: 'I will not interfere in others people's business and I will speak respectfully to my Professor.' Or did you think I'd just forget about it, Potter?" Black eyes narrowed as Snape leaned forward. "Also, at the weekend, you will clean every toilet in the school."
Harry blinked in surprise.
What? But... they had to... Severus had said...
"B-but... " he began, but the man interrupted him:
"You oppose me again already?"
Harry shook his head, feeling the icy wave of disappointment cover his body with goose bumps.
I'll take care of you...
These words had been echoing in his head since yesterday, they had made him look forward to this meeting, but suddenly all of it turned into a fading, distant memory.
Severus waved his wand and a piece of parchment, an inkwell and a quill landed in front of Harry.
"But before you start... " Snape stood, pulled another piece of parchment, and the quill Harry had given him for his birthday, from a drawer, walked over to the Gryffindor and threw the items on the table. Severus then returned to his chair and growled:
"What is this supposed to mean, Potter?"
Harry looked at the parchment, and his eyes widened. In several places the notes written on it were completely illegible because everywhere appeared one word - "Harry". For a moment he stared at the parchment, unable to believe what he was seeing.
"I missed you too, Severus," he replied, smiling broadly.
The man narrowed his eyes dangerously.
"Is this one of your stupid jokes, Potter?"
"No, I just thought that maybe you should get used to my name, so I bought a magic quill which I modified in such a way that it would write my name every time you thought of me. Nice to know that you did, Severus."
Snape closed his eyes as if trying to control himself and not curse Harry. After a moment, he looked at him and said coldly:
"Next time, think carefully before you come up with any other ideas of giving me such a stupid gift. I have never received anything so useless!"
Harry's face suddenly became sad. He quickly looked away and bit his lip, trying to control the unpleasant stinging in his heart.
"I just wanted to give you a surprise," he mumbled. "I didn't know that it would anger you. I just wanted to... " he stopped abruptly, and quickly got up from his chair. "Forget it," he said softly and reached for the quill, but Snape didn't let him and grabbed it first.
"Get back to your seat," he growled.
Harry, surprised, fell back into his chair, and watched as Severus put the quill into the inner pocket of his robes. He wanted to say something, but figured that any comment would end up with just a bigger outbreak of malice on the part of Severus, so he restrained himself. He only smiled slightly and quickly bowed his head to hide it.
"Do you have any more surprises in store, Potter?" Snape demanded.
"Well... " Harry licked his lips and smiled mischievously. "Maybe," he said mysteriously. "You know, I'm pretty good at them. I remember one summer I gave one to my cousin Dudley. He was on a diet, and at nights he always snuck into the fridge. So, I asked Ron to send me some sweets from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and when Dudley crept into the kitchen again, there was a little surprise waiting for him," Harry smiled vindictively. "His whole face was covered in a rash, and he ran into the dining room screaming like a madman. They locked me in the cupboard for a week after that. They thought that I'd care... " he was quiet for a moment, lost in memories. "But I found the good in that whole situation. At least I didn't have to see his ugly face to the end of the summer. And when they released me, Dudley must have been very disappointed to see me in a good mood. I bet all my galleons that he had probably hoped to see me scared and repentant. But I just stood there and laughed at him," he chuckled at the memory of his cousin, running around the house shouting that Harry had gone mad.
Severus looked at him without a word.
"Fascinating," he finally said sarcastically. "Who would have thought that the Boy Who Lived likes to torment his innocent cousin."
"Dudley certainly isn't innocent. He along with his stupid friends loves to torment others. And if I ever go anywhere near him, he immediately flies to complain to his parents. So most of the time I spend locked in a room or my cupboard, depending on their mood," Harry said casually.
The man watched him curiously.
"Why do they lock you up?"
"I have always believed they do it so they can pretend I don't exist," he said with a pale smile on his lips, which, however, didn't reach his eyes.
A wrinkle appeared between Severus' eyebrows, and his eyes narrowed. An embarrassing silence hung in the air. Harry wished he hadn't spoken. He wanted to do somehting to stop the annoying silence. He opened his mouth, but Snape forestalled him. He cleared his throat and said:
"If you are finished telling me about the remarkable vicissitudes of your life, get to work."
Harry winced.
"I thought maybe you'd be a little curious... you know... about who I am. Don't you want to know something about me? I'd really like to know what you were like when you were young, what you liked to do, how you studied."
Severus looked at him.
"I was mean, I liked to harass other students, I studied very well. Still have questions, Potter?"
Harry sighed. If Snape didn't want to reveal anything about himself, he would maybe listen to what Harry had to say. After all, as Luna had defined, they were a couple... They needed to become better acquainted. Ignoring the man's impatient gaze, he looked into the fire and said:
"I like to play chess or Exploding Snap. I love Butterbeer. Much more than..." he tried to recall the name of alcohol Snape had recently given him, "... than Martini. You could prepare some Butterbeer for me sometimes. Even better if it's with cinnamon. I noticed that you prefer something a little... stronger, right? For example, that amber stuff... "
"Whiskey," Severus suggested, as though he could no longer listen to a stupid Gryffindor's chatter. "It's called whiskey."
"Really? I gotta try that sometime. I would like to know how it tastes."
"Absolutely not!. You have too week a head for that. Besides, I doubt that you'd like the taste."
"And what about that green stuff?"
Severus frowned, as if he was wondering what "green stuff" Harry meant.
"Absinthe?"
"That's a pretty name," Harry grinned. "I bet that tastes good."
"Absinthe is a mixture of several herbs, including strongly hallucinogenic wormwood. I doubt you would be able to drink even a sip."
"But you drink it!" Harry exclaimed indignantly. "So it can't be that bad."
"I don't drink it. It's just... Besides, why should I explain myself to you, Potter? I won't let you even touch it."
"Will you let me touch... something else?" Harry asked, his eyes flashing with excitement.
Severus rolled his eyes, but Harry couldn't help noticing the slight smile which he tried to hide.
"What else?" he thought aloud. "Oh, I like to play Quidditch. It's a pity that you haven't been to many matches recently. By the way, I have never seen you fly on a broom... "
"I don't think you ever will," Severus muttered, frowning.
"Shame... Because it's really fantastic. You can't imagine how it feels when you dive for the Snitch. I feel... free, as if I could do anything. I'm so sure - I just know that I can do it, that I'll catch it, that in one more minute... I'll get it. And when I reach for it, and my fingers tighten around it, and it's quivering, trying to get away... I feel such an explosion. As if everything around, absolutely everything has disappeared and there is only this... heat. I know it already belongs to me, that it will never run away, that no one can snatch it from me. I don't care about people, cheers, applause... I might as well be alone out there. The bottom line is that after all the struggle, the long, tiring chase, and incredible effort... the most important thing... is that in the end... I managed to get it," Harry's eyes sparkled when he spoke, gazing into the fire, but not seeing it. He was imagining that he was on the field, with the wind whipping at his face, and in his hand he was holding a small golden ball. "But you know... all of that is nothing compared to what I feel... when I'm with you," he finished. He didn't know why he said it, but he had to. It was as if the words were flowing out his mouth against his will. "And sometimes when we don't see each other for a long time... I feel as though the Snitch has been taken away from me, and I run... but I can't catch it. No matter how much I want to. I miss you so much then... " he stammered, realizing that he had started to splutter. This wasn't a safe topic. He had to find something more neutral. He cleared his throat and, unable to force himself to look at Severus, continued: "You probably feel the same way when you finish a very difficult potion, right? When, after much effort, you finally manage to do it... you also feel joy bursting inside... don't you?" he completed quietly, and only then did he look at the man.
"It is a satisfaction rather than joy," Severus replied. "Because making a potion is not a chase. Every move, every drop is counted. The most important things are to; focus, be accurate, and to wait until the right moment. It reminds me more of... hunting. Everything has to happen at the right time and in proper proportion, because you know that any wrong move could end in disaster. It is a very long process, an art that requires extraordinary patience. Flying on a broom after a golden ball doesn't require anything other than agility."
"That's not true," Harry was indignant. "It needs an extraordinary patience, too. Besides, that's not what matters most here. The most important thing is the feeling that comes when it's over. It's impossible that you don't feel any joy when you finally manage to brew a potion correctly after several months of hard work, where every mistake could end very badly."
Severus looked at him for quite a while before replying:
"It all depends on the type and purpose of the potion. When I finish brewing another healing potion for Pomfrey, it's hard to feel anything but tedious satisfaction."
"And how long does it actually require to make the most difficult potions?"
"A long time, Potter. I am sure you would manage to catch your golden ball several thousand times."
Harry widened his eyes.
"Really? So long? Longer than the Polyjuice Potion?"
"Much longer."
Harry thought about it for a moment. He recalled the potion he'd seen in Snape's secret laboratory, and wondered if it was one of these...?
"And... " he stammered. "Are you brewing a difficult potion just now?"
Severus' expression changed. Suddenly a fervent glint appeared on his face.
"Yes," he said quietly.
Harry felt cold. He felt as if a cold wind was blowing through the room, and yet that was impossible. He was surprised at the reaction his question had elicited.
"And... how long will you brew it?"
The glow in Severus' eyes dimmed for a moment, and a shadow crossed his face. He turned his head toward the fireplace, and looked as though he was thinking about the answer. Finally, after a few moments of tense silence, he replied:
"As long as I have to."
Harry frowned. It was a strange response... He wanted to ask something more, but he could see from the Potions Master's face that this subject had come to an end. Suddenly it became uncomfortably cold. He didn't know where this impression had come from, but he really didn't want to continue feeling this way. He breathed deeply and tried to recall the carefree smile on his face, and frantically searched for something more neutral and safe.
"Aside from me, do you sometimes talk to anyone else? You know, about trivial things – such as your well-being, or what's happened to you on any given day, or about "what idiots the first-years are, and who accepted them into the school''?"
Severus gave him a long, inscrutable look.
"I don't like anyone, Potter. No one likes me either, so to whom and about what would I speak? Besides, I believe that it is not only the first-years that are idiots in this school."
"I like you," said Harry quickly. "So, you can talk to me about anything," he smiled.
"Really? Even the use of leukocytes from Erumpents' blood in the production of experimental detox potions?"
Harry's lips had already reacted spontaneously and were going to form the question "what?", but at the last moment he managed to stop himself and instead he said:
"Sure. As soon as you give me some time to read several books on leukocytes, Erumpents' blood and detox potions," he lost the battle with his mouth, which stretched into a smile.
Severus lifted his eyebrows slightly. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead he closed his mouth and just shook his head.
"So back to the topic... " Harry said suddenly. "I often talk to Ron. Hermione can't talk about anything other than lessons. But Ron is cool, in spite of everything. Recently he told me that he'd seen Milicente Bulstrode and Cormac McLaggen slip into Proffesor Sprout's greenhouse, and after some time they'd run out, screaming, trying to tear the Lapient leaves from themselves. Both were the half-dressed. Apparently they had decided to join our Houses in a friendly... embrace," he chuckled and glanced at Snape, who looked like he wasn't amused. He looked rather like someone who had just remembered the names and was now devising a painful punishment. "Then, there's Luna. She is really very cool when you get to know her better. Oh,… in fact... she wasn't my girlfriend. We were only pretending so that everyone would leave me alone. I hope you don't mind... " Snape's face was like a stone mask - if stone could radiate derisive boredom that is. "Oh, and sometimes I talk to Ginny.. She is also pretty cool. Just a little too much... " he stopped suddenly, noticing the dark eyes that Severus pierced him with. They shone with a very dangerous suggestion that if Harry didn't shut up, then something very bad would happen to him. He bit his tongue, realizing to whom and about what he was talking, and quickly changed the subject. "And about studying... my favorite subject was once DADA, and I always eagerly look forward to a History of Magic, because it was a very nice change. Binns can lull to sleep the whole class. But now... " he smiled. "...now my favorite subject is Potions. You know, I think it's really fascinating."
Snape's eyes lit up with amusement.
"Really?" the man asked, and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
Harry leaned forward and continued:
"Yes. And you know what? I don't know how I couldn't see it before. All those ingredients that pass through my hands... I touch them, caress them with my fingers, mashing, crushing or squeezing juice out of them... " he saw Snape bite his lip. "...It really is very interesting. Then there is the cauldron which you have to watch so it won't reach boiling point and explode..." Severus undid the button at the collar, and Harry smiled to himself. He was surprised that he could talk about it in such an ambiguous manner. "But that's not all. There is also the Potions Master who teaches us, and although almost all students are afraid of him, I think he is excellent in his field," Harry felt his cheeks flush.
The man opened his mouth in surprise, but soon mastered his expression, and leaned back in his chair, His intense gaze burnt into Harry. The boy cleared his throat, embarrassed, and tried to quickly change the subject, but suddenly he heard Snape's soft voice:
"How much do you like your Potions Master, Potter?" he asked, with that wonderful smirk on his face. Harry widened his eyes, unable to believe that Severus had just asked him that and that he seemed to want to continue their little game. How should he answer? How much he liked him? That couldn't be described...
He felt his heart start to beat faster. He frantically searched for an appropriate answer, but nothing came to mind. And the worst of it, was that Snape really seemed to be interested in what he would say. Harry looked down and stared at his knees. He imagined that Snape wasn't there. That there was someone else sitting across from him. Luna, for example. If she asked him this question. What would he say?
He reached deep inside himself, remembering every Potions lesson, and all the feelings that seemed to burn in many different colors, intertwining with each other. He allowed his mind to drift to through every memory and his heart took control of his body. He closed his eyes. He saw the potions classroom. And he saw… him.
"So much... " he said in a slightly trembling voice, "...that when he sits at his desk, marking essays, I can't stop watching him over my cauldron. I know I shouldn't interrupt my work, I know that I have to brew a potion, but I can't take my eyes off him. So much... that I start counting the minutes until he stops and looks at me. And when he does, for that one moment I forget we are in class, and only think about how hard I am. I only think about my desire. So much... that once I manage to look away and turn back to my potion, I suddenly realize that I don't know what ingredient I have in my hands, which one I should add next, and in general, I forgot what potion I'm brewing. I can only think about how much I want to look at him again... " he opened his eyes and breathed deeply. Was that silly? Did he manage to convey what he felt? "Very much," he finished softly, as if these two simple words could encompass all of his emotions.
He dared to look at Severus and almost choked. The man sat motionless, staring at him with a look of astonishment on his face and this incredible... warmth in his eyes. Harry realized that he was holding his breath and his heart leaped. What he saw in those black eyes was almost like... tenderness. Sharp features softened. On normally clenched lips he could see... a smile. Not mocking, not taunting. A real smile. Light and warm, one that suddenly made everything look so... impossibly beautiful.
Harry blinked a few times, as if trying to convince himself that what he saw wasn't an illusion.
"Then you must be very careful, Potter," Severus finally said. "If you're so interested in your teacher, you may finally... fail."
Harry blushed.
"I'll take my chances," he said quietly, looking straight into Severus' eyes. It seemed, that for a split second, everything stopped. Harry didn't know which one of them looked away first. He only knew that his mouth had once again taken control and had begun to speak against his will, as though it wanted to fill the silence and get rid of this strange tension at any cost.
"I might fail any subject anyway. I'm not as good as Hermione. I don't absorb knowledge so quickly and I have problems with concentration, but when I really want something, I can do it. Like my last paper in Potions... I worked so hard and spent a lot of time on it. But of course I had to make a mistake and screw everything up. There is nothing I can do well," he sighed. "Maybe next time... " he stopped, seeing Snape rise from his seat and walk to the shelf. He took out a piece of parchment and placed it on the table, then sat back in his chair. Harry looked at the parchment, and his eyes widened. Before him there lay... his essay. An essay that should be rotting on the bottom of the pile by now. All the creases had been smoothed out, and at the bottom there was a visible 'Rating: Exceeds Expectations.'
After a while he realized that his mouth was wide open. He looked at Snape with disbelief. The man's face was as calm as ever.
"So you checked it out... " a joyful smile appeared on his lips. "Oh, Severus... Do you really think it is so good? I really tried."
Snape frowned, clearly annoyed.
"If this stupid smile doesn't disappear immediately from your face, we can quickly restore your previous assessment, Potter."
Harry quickly hid a smile, but he couldn't stifle the flame of joy dancing in his stomach. Abruptly, he rose from his chair, circled the table, and knelt in front of Severus. He put his arms around the man's waist and pressed his face into his chest.
"Thank you," he said quietly, smiling to himself. He heard the man's strange shallow breathing and his heart beat, and felt the coldness of his body. He missed all of this so much... His robes smelled of bitter herbs. He had probably just brewed some potion. But this was nothing new, he always brewed potions... Harry pressed harder to him, snuggling his face into the black, rough cloth. Darkness enveloped him. Quiet and pleasant. And - despite everything he felt - warm...
For some time there was silence, but after a while, the gentle, warm breath and heartbeat were pierced by Severus' cold voice:
"I gave you work to do, Potter. Have you forgotten already?"
Harry muttered disconsolately, raised his flushed face and looked straight into narrowed eyes.
"You know that... that I have a match soon? That means that we won't be able to fuck for a while. Because I won' be able to sit on a broom... " the unspoken request hung in the air.
Severus raised an eyebrow.
"In that case, I will have to cancel your detentions for some time, Mr. Potter."
Damn it!
"Very funny," he mumbled. "We can always talk to each other."
Snape gave him a mocking look, but Harry ignored him.
"Will you come to the match to watch me?" he asked hopefully.
"I will be extremely busy at that time."
"Pity," Harry growled, getting more and more upset. But then a thought came to him. "Or maybe that's for the better, because if you did come, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on catching the Snitch, and we would probably lose."
Snape looked at him thoughtfully.
"So maybe I will think about it."
Harry hid a smile, again pressing his face to the rough robes.
"Can you now return to your seat, Potter, and finally deal with what you have to do?" Harry heard the gruff voice over his head, and winced. Of course he wanted to be close to him and hug him, and not sit and rewrite the same sentence three hundred times. Just a little more... just a little. However, he rose from his knees and straightened. For a moment he stood and looked only at the man, but then something took control of him and told him to lean forward, put his arms around Snape's neck and gently kiss him on the cheek.
He breathed in the usual smell of herbs and musk deep into his lungs, sighed, and stepped away. He didn't look at the man's face when he turned to go back to his seat, but he could feel the man's intense gaze follow him.
He picked up the quill and looked at the parchment lying before him. He couldn't bring himself to write even one word. His thoughts still hovered around Severus. He lifted his head and saw that the man was now holding a book. Harry strained his eyes to read the title:
Usage of Dark Magic in...
Snape bent book down a little, and Harry didn't have time to read the rest. His heart pounded. He recalled the titles from the Restricted Section, and that every one of them had turned out to be completely useless. But Severus... He would know what was worth reading. Maybe he could even help him... Harry had so many questions. Who should he go to? Tonks? She would immediately ask why Harry was interested in the Dark Arts. He knew that Snape had already declined, but if he could skilfully lead the conversation... he might learn something that would help him.
"Is that a book about Dark Magic?" he asked, interrupting the silence prevailing in the room. Severus looked up.
"How did you guess, Potter?" he snorted. Harry knew that he was severely testing Severus' patience, but he needed to learn something!
"I've heard... Moody told us in the fourth year about Unforgivable Curses. He said that to cast them, you have to really want to. And that none of us would be able to do so. Is that true just for the Unforgivable Curses, or is it the same for all curses, even the simplest ones?"
Harry saw the interest on the man's face, as if he had touched on a subject that was worth his attention. Severus looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then put down his book, folded his hands and said:
"Dark Magic is governed by the same rules as any other kind of magic. To cast any spell, even as simple as Lumos, you have to want it and focus your thoughts. In this aspect they don't differ," Harry noticed that whilst Severus spoke, his face had changed. He appeared to be completely absorbed in what he was saying. "Curses are usually extremely difficult and complex, and therefore require much greater focus. Just as, for example, the Patronus Charm. To perfom it, you must strongly desire it. The only difference is the nature of the spell cast. When you use a curse aimed at hurting someone, you have to ask yourself a fundamental question: do you really want to hurt someone? If you are unable to do so, you will never be able to cast it properly. Therefore, you see, it is not about any specific requirement…, only about your soul. Whether you want to harm someone."
"So it's true... " Harry seemed to be deep in thought,"To cast a curse, your soul has to be riddled with evil?"
Severus frowned.
"Why would you think that?"
Harry blushed.
"I... I read it somewhere."
For a moment the man scrutinized him with a watchful gaze.
"Since you are unable to stop yourself from stealing books from the Restricted Section... "
"I wasn't stealing!" Harry clung to the word.
"... try at least to take those that have scientific value, and not nonsense written by practitioners of black magic who lived hundreds of years ago and couldn't distinguish their own reflection in a mirror from that of their enemies. There are many fairly good books written on Dark Magic."
"For example?" Harry asked quickly.
Severus looked at him mockingly.
"Trying to be devious, Potter?"
Harry bit his lip. There were no point in trying to approach Severus.
"Well, how do I know which books are good? Nobody has told me," the Gryffindor said firmly, with a clear focus on the first word.
"That is because Defense Against the Dark Arts is taught by a pink haired, clumsy ignoramus, that is an Auror as much as McGonagall is a Veela. And in the classroom, instead of studying real Dark Magic, you only learn how to defend against Gryndilows or Manticors."
"That's not true!" Harry exclaimed indignantly. "Tonks is a thousand times better than Umbridge. Maybe not as good as Moody or Lupin, but I think she's a really great teacher. She recently told us about the most dangerous curse that Voldemort uses which isn't included in the list of Unforgivable Curses. We've also learned lots of defensive spells."
Severus snorted softly leaned back in his chair, and narrowed his eyes dangerously.
"Defensive spells? Don't make me laugh, Potter. Rather than prepare you for war, you are only learning how to repel an attack and hide behind the backs of others. You won't defeat the Dark Lord by casting Expelliarmus or hiding behind a Protego. They should have included the teaching of curses that can do much more than just stun your enemy for very short period of time into the curriculum a long time ago. But of course Dumbledore would sooner suffocate in his beard than 'poison; your 'innocent souls', and that's why you have no chance against the Dark Lord and his army."
"Well, why don't you want to teach me? If you think we should be able to cast a curse, why can't you train students who want to?" Harry asked, thrusting a hard look at the man.
"Because your beloved Headmaster won't allow it, Potter."
"He doesn't allow you to fuck students either, but you do," said Harry before he could bite his tongue. Snape's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Watch your tongue, Potter," he snapped angrily. Harry took a deep breath, trying not to pay attention to the man's eyes which were flashing at him dangerously, and continued, but much quieter:
"We can do it in secret. Last year, along with several other students, we created a group which we called "Dumbledore's Army". We practiced in the Room of Requirement and... " he broke off, seeing mocking look that Snape was hammering at him. "What?" he asked.
"This is something new. The Boy Who Lived is willing to have a secret from his beloved Headmaster, and taint his innocent little soul with the Dark Arts, even if it may result in the expulsion from school and being sent to Azkaban."
"Ever since you've put your hands on me, I'm not so innocent... So what's the difference?" said Harry, looking into Severus's eyes. Snape frowned, but didn't respond. He watched Harry as though assessing him. The boy wanted to escape his gaze, but he didn't, although it took a lot of will power to tolerate it. After several minutes of tense silence, Severus leaned back in his chair turned his gaze to the fire and said quietly:
"I will think about it."
It wasn't a promise, just a possibility, but Harry still had the impression that he'd conquered a mountain. He could hardly stop a cheerful smile from appearing on his lips. He cleared his throat and said:
"Anyway, my soul is not so innocent. Last year I cast the Cruciatus at Bellatrix. I mean, maybe it didn't quite... come out as it should have. But I was very close. I hesitated. I wanted it, but something stopped me."
Severus glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"And you think you would be able to do so now?" he asked mockingly.
Harry bit his lip.
"I am no longer the same person I was years ago," he said quietly, then looked at the man. "You have changed me." Severus snorted and looked into the fire again. "I know that now I would succeed. After all, you said that you only need to really want to... to hurt someone," he looked at his hands. For a moment he thought he saw traces of blood on them, but he knew it was just an illusion. "And I do want to." He sensed Severus' eyes on him, but didn't raise his head. He clenched his fists and quickly sent away the images that were attempting to break into his mind, and a sudden thought struck him. "You know... I wonder... " he looked up again and fixed his eyes on the Potions Master who was staring at him attentively. "When you're with Voldemort, and when he tells you to do all these... things... I mean, throwing various curses... You said that to cast them, you have to really want to. So how do you...?" he stopped, seeing a sudden flash in man's eyes.
It wasn't a pleasant glow. It reminded him of a cold light. With a touch of green.
Comprehension pierced Harry.
Snape's lips curled in a dark smile.
"Are you surprised, Potter?"
Harry held his breath, feeling his face flush. His stomach dropped. Before his eyes flashed an image of Severus, standing in a circle, surrounded by tall, dark figures, their faces hidden behind masks that shone like white porcelain. Severus casting the Cruciatus again and again on blurry bodies that were writhing on the ground. His hand firmly holding his wand, his eyes - hidden behind his mask – were insensitive, without compassion or remorse. He blinked several times, trying to chase the image away, feeling his heart beat faster and faster. He looked in disbelief at the man sitting opposite to him and shook his head.
"It's impossible."
"Why not?" Severus asked, mockingly.
"Is this... Does this mean that you... you like that? You said that you must really want it. Do you really...?" he stopped when Snape leaned towards him and narrowed his eyes.
"What I like, what I have to do, and what I want, are completely different things, Potter."
Harry frowned, trying to understand.
"But do you...?"
"The human mind is really a very interesting tool. You can use it well, if you know where the lock is, and how to open it. When you do so, you are able to do anything. You can force your mind to do things which, in theory, you should never be able to do. For example, kill a man. Or become attached to him emotionally. Or to hate him. This is control. Something you have never been able to master, despite all my efforts. You can't close your mind even for a moment. Others can read it as though it was an open book. I do so almost all the time."
Harry remembered how much Occlumency lessons with Snape had cost him last year. He remembered the taste of bitterness, when, despite many attempts, he couldn't resist Severus, who without any remorse had penetrated his mind.
A sudden, uncontrollable thought went through Harry's head:
Well, actually little has changed. Except now he easily penetrates somehting else...
"So, in every situation you can always, control yourself?" he asked, looking at Severus in disbelief and with deep admiration. "That's really... Incredible," he mumbled.
The man seemed to be surprised by what he saw in Harry's wide eyes. He had probably expected to see anything from fear to dislike, but certainly not... a kind of admiration.
Harry was really impressed. He couldn't imagine such a life. Always in control, always having to be focused... unable to afford even a moment to take a breath. He couldn't concentrate in class, let alone... Wait a minute... Something didn't fit... Severus couldn't control himself when…
"Wait," he said, when the man leaned back and looked into the fire again, "you can't always control yourself. Last time you just exploded with rage during class. You were furious. I remember it. And always... always when we do it... you are not usually in control then."
Snape smiled his most sarcastic smile.
"You haven't understood a thing I have just told you, Potter."
He frowned. What didn't he understand? He understood perfectly!
"But... "
"This conversation has been a total waste of time. And you should have been doing what I told you to do a long time ago! If you think that by chattering you'll manage to avoid your detention, you have gone far beyond the bounds of mere stupidity!" Severus growled, picking up a book. "So get to work if you don't want a more painful punishment!" after he finished speaking, he looked at his book and began reading.
Harry's stomach sank. He lowered his eyes and looked at the parchment lying before him. He knew that the conversation was over and that he wouldn't be able to draw another word from Severus no matter what he did.
He couldn't even touch the quill. His mind was following a mysterious path that led to dark places in his soul that wished to be freed. Hmm... Truth be told, he really would have preferred to get any other punishment than just rewriting the same boring sentence. He missed Severus so much, and he'd said that he'd 'take care of him'"... So why hadn't he done so, why had he just told him to serve his detention? It wasn't right!
Harry's eyes wandered over to the man involuntarily. He was sitting upright in his chair, and even whilst reading a book, he gave the impression that he was someone that could cause a lot of pain without even batting an eye...
The thought made Harry's heart lurch. He swallowed, trying to chase these thoughts away.
No, Severus had given him work to do, and he must do it! He couldn't provoke him. He had to hold on! He remembered what had happened the last time...
Perfectly. He remembered it all too well.
Harry glanced at the man again. Extremely dangerous ideas were pulsing in his mind, fueled by a memory of lying with his head wedged in an armchair, whilst Snape...
He blinked several times, chasing away the images that would severely... stimulate his tense body.
Damn it!
He glanced again. Severus' legs weren't crossed, they were just slightly apart. Harry's eyes went involuntarily toward the bulge under the black material of his trousers. He licked his lips, feeling a rush of heat.
What if...?
He felt his head spin. The dark part of his soul was screaming, and struggling, trying to free itself to get what it wanted. To get what it had come for. It whispered in his ear:
"Do it!"
He obeyed.
His hands went to his shirt and began unbuttoning it, pushing it aside; slowly revealing his pale chest. With trembling fingers, he loosened his tie and pulled it over his head.
Snape's face was hidden behind his book, but Harry stared at him intently as he quietly undid the buttons of his trousers. He parted his legs and reached into his pants, stifling a groan when his fingers brushed against his rigid erection. He bit his lip, and very gently pulled on his cock and laid it against his belly, letting only the head peep out of the material.
Severus should touch it. It was his cold fingers that should be clenching around it...
Feeling a rush of heat, Harry briefly closed his eyes, then turned his gaze toward the man sitting opposite. He felt as though his eyes were burning. He put his hand on his belly and slowly moved it up his chest, to his neck.
Snape moved. Harry held his breath.
"Potter, would you please stop staring at me and start doing...?" Severus had moved his book to the side and his voice suddenly froze. His eyes widened. Harry felt as though he was nailed to his chair, and even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to break free.
"Come on!" the voice in his head whispered.
He licked his lips, narrowed his eyes, and looked straight into a raging fire within the black eyes. Severus was beside him in an instant.
Harry's breath hitched when he saw the burning look. He leaned his head back, and made himself comfortable. His body was vibrating in anticipation.
"You can't restrain yourself can you, Potter?" Snape whispered, as he leant over and put his hand into Harry's pants. A stinging coldness pierced his body, and he moaned as the cold hand grabbed his cock and squeezed hard. "You always have to be disobedient, don't you? So now, you are going to be punished in the way you deserve."
He squeezed harder. Harry groaned and jerked his hips. He grabbed the man's robes and pulled him closer, and with trembling fingers, began to unfasten Snape's buttons.
"Oh, no, Potter. I will not allow this," Severus growled, grabbing Harry's hands and pushing them away. He thrust his knee between the boy's thighs, pressing him to the chair and thrusting at his crotch.
Harry whimpered and hit his head on the back of the chair.
"So you want to play, do you? You want to tease me with your childish games? Not with me, Potter!" the man hissed and pulled his hair.
There was an explosion of pain. But it was wonderful...
Yes, just like that!
Harry reached down and grabbed the rough robes again, and tried to pull the cold body closer.
"You dare to ignore my orders again?" Severus snorted, grabbing his hands and pushing them sideways with force. "I will have to punish you in a way that will break your habit of provoking me, once and for all!"
Another explosion. But this time, no pain.
Pleasure.
Harry's body arched. He jerked his head and brought his trembling lips to Snape's ear, and managed to produce two, hoarse words:
"Fuck me... "
He felt Snape's body stiffen, and before he had time to realize what was happening, he was lifted from his chair and thrown onto the table. He heard the sound of things falling to the floor, along with the book that Severus had been reading.
Immediately, the man appeared next to him, and with one push, he knocked him onto his stomach. Harry felt his cheek being pressed into the cold surface of the table, whilst at the same time, his body was being pierced with hot magic. He cried out when something captured his hands and pulled them behind his back, immobilizing them. Something else lifted up his hips, and his knees were fixed in place to the top of the table. He tried to move, but he couldn't. He could only kneel with his buttocks sticking out and his hands tied behind him.
Wait, wasn't he going to...?
With one hand, the man pressed his head against the hard table, and with the other, he pulled off Harry's pants, in one quick move. He felt Severus push from behind.
"What are you do...?" Harry began, barely turning his head to draw a breath.
"I'm fulfilling your request, Potter!" the man hissed, stretching his entrance with his fingers.
Wait, was he going to do this without...?
"Stop it!" Harry shouted. "Let me go! You can't... "
With one sudden movement, Severus was already inside him. Harry's scream pierced the air. He felt as though he had exploded in pain. Without any lube, without any preparation... Snape had pressed into him, and he felt rough robes against his bare buttocks. Harry jerked, but his head was pressed firmly against the table and Snape wouldn't let him move. Snape stopped as suddenly as he had entered him, as though he was giving Harry time to adjust, to open up for him.
"Stop fighting me," he whispered sternly, withdrawing and re-entering in one rapid thrust. "It will stop hurting then."
Harry's eyes filled with tears. He bit his lip, trying not to scream. Severus stopped again.
It wasn't pleasant at a...
Snape pulled out and thrust in again. A scream escaped his throat.
"Stop it!" the boy whimpered. "It hurts! Severus! It hu..." Suddenly he realized that he was mute. He opened his mouth, but no sound escaped.
His eyes widened in understanding. A silencing spell! Snape had cast a damn silencing spell on him so that...
The man thrust in again, and because he couldn't scream, Harry hit his head against the hard surface of the table. He could feel Snape's hand in his hair and the beads of sweat that ran down his hot skin.
"Stop?" Snape gasped, leaning over him. He pulled Harry's head back and whispered in a low, panting voice; "You wanted it, Potter. You were begging for it. So now you'll get it!" Snape withdrew and re-entered him. Abruptly, sharply. Deeply. If Harry could scream, he would tear his throat apart. Instead, he just shook his head, trying to hold back tears. "Oh, I know it hurts... It must hurt! You wanted to play with me, so I will show you how this game ends!"
He let go of Harry's head, which instantly fell back onto the table.
It was not supposed to be like this... Not this!
The Gryffindor's body jerked with the rhythm imposed by Severus. He was only able to whimper silently when the tip of Snape's cock repeatedly hit his prostate, faster and faster. Thighs, covered in black, struck violently and aggressively against the boy's bare buttocks. Harry felt as though everything, absolutely everything in him, had frozen. He hung over an abyss full of boiling lava whose level rose toward him with every thrust. He could feel his blood pumping through his veins, and his skin begin to melt. The beads of sweat running down his body were like drops of hot oil, scorching and burning marks into his skin.
His cheek was rubbing against the hard surface of the table, and his body was vibrating with effort. However, the pain began to fade, as if it was being washed away by the erupting hot lava. Only a pure, scorching, red-hot iron rod of euphoria was left. Everything seemed to burn, including the muscles in his bound and twisted arms. Snape's cock had pushed its way in and was now penetrating him without any resistance.
Penetrating him easily... everywhere.
It was only an echo of Harry's own thoughts that were reflected in his mind. He could hear Severus' heavy panting breaths above him, and the table creaking from bearing his weight. The sound of hips hitting hips reminded him of blows from fists wrapped in material. He could even hear his own quick, jerky breathing. The sounds all merged together, forming a spiral, which led towards the finale.
The lava reached his loins and started to gather there, almost scalding him. Severus increased his pace. Harry gritted his teeth. Something was wrong. It was too hot, too... intense. He didn't have time to prepare...
The man behind him froze, and Harry held his breath. Cold fingers dug harder into his hips. Severus slipped out and pushed in again. One more time. And another...
A barely restrained growl of deep satisfaction pierced the air, and the hot jet that filled Harry from the inside, only increased the raging fire in his loins. Severus' fingers dug so deeply into his body that they would surely leave marks, and the throbbing of the man's erection almost coincided with the pulsation of Harry's own cock. He was already on the edge, but something was blocking him.
Breathing hard, Severus leaned over him, and Harry trembled violently, when he felt the warm breath hit the bare skin on his back.
"So this is it..." he thought. He felt disappointed when Snape's hot cock slipped out of him, leaving traces of semen and a trail of fire. Well, you can't always have it all... but he was so close...
Suddenly something changed. Harry heard a quiet, discontented murmur above him, and a curse he didn't understand. His head was spinning too much. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Potions Master's hands slip around him. And suddenly, everything exploded into a thousand sparks as the long fingers pinched his nipples. His body reacted immediately, jerking and falling back. He hit his head on the hard surface of the table and moaned silently. It was like an electric shock. Another pinch, and he realized that if he hadn't been magically tied to the table, he would have certainly fallen to the floor. This time it didn't feel like electricity though, it felt more like a… whip. Painful. Intense. Stimulating. The lava swelled again, and the door of understanding opened in Harry's mind.
Severus had noticed that he hadn't co...
Suddenly, he felt a finger enter him, and he pressed his forehead to the table. The finger curved gently and hit the correct spot. One more time. And again. And... Harry's whole body shivered. His skin was burning. Everything was being devoured by fire. He felt Severus leaning down covering his back, and...
... And the world crashed into a thousand pieces as a hot, wet tongue touched his skin and began to glide slowly along his spine. It was as though Snape was creating sparks that were being consumed by his body, and massing in his abdomen, forming something huge... Harry's mouth opened in a soundless scream. Severus' tongue, on his skin. Lower and lower. On his sacrum. On his... Oh Merlin!
A wave came crashing down, engulfing everything in its path, including his consciousness, his senses and his endless silent scream. It flooded muscles that were tensed to their limit, swept through his body, and with white foam, flowed straight out and onto the table.
For this one moment everything was gone, everything melted away, ceased to be relevant. There was only pleasure, so great and so powerful, that it could easily move mountains. Harry had had many orgasms, but none equaled the intensity of this one. He felt that a little more of this and he would pass out, fade away along with it.
Only after some time did he manage to emerge and pull air into his sore lungs. Tight muscles began to melt, and his body started to relax and drift quietly along. Everything floated.
Harry had the vague feeling that Severus had straightened up, because the burden on him had disappeared. He heard a cleaning spell that removed the traces from the table, but - the strangest thing was - not from his buttocks. His breathing was slowly returning to normal. His body ceased to tremble, but when the pleasure drained away and his muscles were relaxed, Harry began to feel a severe pain in his twisted arms, taut thighs, curved spine and grated knees. With relief, he realized he would soon be released from the embarrassing magical bindings, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Snape pick something up of the floor. He turned his head just in time to see the man sit down in his chair, cross his legs casually, and delve into his book.
At first he thought Severus wanted to tease him. After all, he couldn't leave him here in this state. He couldn't. Could he?
For a few moments he looked straight at the man in the hope that this farce was about to end, that Snape would leave his book, smile derisively proclaiming his victory, and free him. However, with every passing second Harry felt his panic increase.
It's impossible! He can't do this! He can't leave me like this! What a nasty son of a bitch! Vicious, duplicitous...
He could barely feel his arms. His thighs were trembling with effort.
"Release me!" he screamed silently. He tried to move, but the magical ties were too strong. Nothing could loosen them. Harry began to struggle desperately, hitting his head on top of the table in an attempt to draw man's attention.
It worked. But, without even putting his book aside, Severus just told him in a cold voice:
"It won't get you anywhere, Potter. If you go on struggling, you will just make the situation worse. You cannot free yourself, so I advise you, to calm down, and honorably accept your punishment. You did not allow me to work when I clearly told you to do something else, so I will only release you when I finish what, thanks to you, I was unable to do."
After these words, Snape immersed himself in his reading again.
Harry's eyes opened in shock. Snape was going to keep him this way until he finished... reading? That was sick! He was hurt, every muscle was trembling with exhaustion, his head was spinning from too many emotions, his protruding bare buttocks were stinging painfully, and Severus was going to sit in a chair for Merlin knew how much time and READ A BOOK?! And for what? For some sick principle!?
If Harry wasn't in such extreme despair, he certainly would have laughed. For several minutes, he tried to struggle in the hope that maybe somehow he'd manage to break free, but eventually he gave up, too tired and weak. He pressed his cheek to the cool surface of the table, closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and tried to withstand the increasing pain. He felt that if it got even a little bit worse his arms would pop out of their sockets, making him unable to do anything with them. A cold rage swirled in his mind, along with an enormous grief; together they formed a sharp icicle that was ready to strike as soon as it had the chance. So, when Severus made a mistake, and released him...
He felt his cheeks burn with an inner fire of anger. He was humiliated to the extreme. And for what? Just because he had desired him! He'd desired that damn fucking bastard who always had to put his foot down! Damn him!
He had no idea how much time passed. He only knew that he was so sore that he wouldn't be able to move, he would only be able to collapse on the floor and wail. But he couldn't even do that, damn it! He tried to think of something to fool his senses. He rubbed his forehead on the table, and tried to restore the circulation to his hands by moving his fingers.
He felt as though it had been over an hour, maybe longer, and with clenched eyes, he was trying to imagine that he was flying on a broom, trying to catch the Snitch... and then he heard a rustle. With difficulty, he returned to reality and opened his eyes. He saw that Severus had put his book aside and was reaching for his wand. His heart pounded. One swipe and the bindings gave way. Harry fell onto the table and heard a groan escape from his own mouth. That meant the man had given him his voice back, but it didn't matter now. He felt like a limp sack of sand. There were hot sparks of fire that burst just under the skin in his thighs, shoulders and spine and caused cramps in all his muscles. He didn't have the strength to even raise his head - he just lay there with clenched teeth, trying to regain control of his body.
"Get up, Potter!" he heard a cool voice above. "Your punishment is over."
"I can't... " he groaned, breathing with difficulty. He lay motionless a few minutes, trying to control the dizziness and weakness. He was too exhausted to be mad at the man. Oh, the icicle was still inside, but now Harry had no strength to use it and strike Snape. "Why... did you do it?" he asked finally, trying not to sound broken. "You wrote... that you'd take care of me..."
"If you had obeyed me and executed my order, I would have taken care of you, but patience has never been your strong point," Snape interrupted him. "You completely ignored me, so you had to be punished in a way that would break your habit of provoking me once and for all."
"I was just hot," Harry said, clenching his teeth and turning his head so he could look at Snape, who was standing next to him. "It was you who threw yourself at me! I'm just an innocent Gryffindor, you said so yourself. How can you suspect such things of me?"
The man looked at him as though he couldn't believe his insolence. However, with each little bit of sensation that returned to his body, Harry felt his anger increase – an anger that was turning slowly into a wave, similar to the one that had taken him almost to paradise some time ago. Only this time its aim was destruction.
He wouldn't get away with it! Oh no, not this time! How could he treat him like that? It was so vile that it was beyond all boundaries.
With great difficulty, he managed to slip off the table, but his legs buckled under him and he fell to the floor. He tried to rise but failed. He could only rely on his hands and knees: muscles burned with fire. After a while, he heard a low voice above him, slightly tinged with derision:
"Well well, Potter at my feet. I'll have to remember this view."
Harry clenched his teeth, feeling his anger start to take control of him. No, he wouldn't give him the satisfaction! He straightened up and pulled up his pants. With the help of his hands, he stood up and started putting on his trousers. He leaned against the table and looked at Severus with a glare so full of rage and bitterness that it would only take a little more - and everything around them would explode. Anger gave him strength. Severus looked at him without saying a word, his face looked like stone, but an almost imperceptible trembling at the corners of his mouth showed that he was having great fun. And that was the last nail in the coffin.
"I hope you realize that you deserved that punishment, Potter?" he asked, raising one eyebrow slightly. Something in Harry boiled.
"It is printed perfectly in my memory," he growled. "I will certainly not get close to you again!" he spat. His voice broke. It was hoarse with anger. The long, sharp icicle trembled on a string, on the verge of firing. Only Harry's willpower kept him on the spot.
"Oh, certainly," Snape repeated, but his voice was so dripping with derision that it was enough to pull the trigger. Harry couldn't control himself any longer. Everything turned into an icy blade of fury that couldn't be imprisoned any more.
"Right, I deserved that punishment!" he exploded. "I wanted to do what you told me... but at that moment, my desire was stronger! Is that something bad? For you, of course, it is! You and your fucking rules! I have a rule too, you know. My rule is spontaneity! However, I am sure there is no such word in your dictionary! You always have to control everything. But let me tell you something - desire can't be controlled! Maybe you can, but I'm just an ordinary "brat", whose feelings are more important than any rules! How could you punish me for them like that? How could you just leave me? It was ugly, even for you!" he blurted out in one breath. He was so immersed in anger, it was only when he finished that he realized Severus' eyes were full of fire.
The man's hand shot forward and grabbed Harry's shoulder. Long fingers closed on him like a tick. Harry felt a jerk and his face was dangerously close to Severus'. In his dark eyes, a storm was raging. Fire and ice mixed, they swirled, and struggled. Snape looked as though he was fighting with himself, and in his mind there were two conflicting fronts. The arm that gripped Harry's shoulder was trembling.
However, the Gryffindor barely noticed, too blinded by the storm that had taken over his senses. He tore his arm from Snape's grip, turned abruptly and headed for the door. However, when he pulled the handle, he found that the door was locked. He jerked it a few times in anger before he heard:
"Your detention isn't over yet, Potter," Snape's voice was strangely uneasy.
"Ah, yes," Harry snorted, then turned to the man and headed for his chair.
Good! He'd write those lines, if Snape wanted it so much!
He passed Severus, who stood beside the chair, and picked up the quill, piece of parchment and ink that was lying on the floor. He sat down and hissed in pain. He felt a stabbing pain, as if someone was sticking pins in his butt. He could hardly turn the inkstand, and had to grit his teeth because his arms were in so much pain that he could barely pick up the quill to begin writing:
"I will not..."
His hands were shaking so much that if he didn't know how he wrote. He could barely hold the quill. He felt as though something was trying to rip him to shreds from the inside.
Crack! The quill had broken.
Harry blinked, but it didn't help much. Everything was blurry, but he managed to see something. A shadow that fallen over him and the parchment lying before him. He felt a movement behind his back. Severus was standing behind him. He leaned over and gently took the quill from Harry's trembling hand.
"Leave it," he whispered, putting it aside.
A blast of warm air touched Harry's neck. Something jerked in his stomach. Something sharp.
"Get away from me!" he shouted, jerking rapidly and trying to push the man away. "I don't want... " his voice broke. He wouldn't have been able to finish anyway, because Snape had grabbed him by his shoulders, and with a strong jerk had pulled him back. Snape leaned over to his ear, and the warm breath touched the back of the neck. A shiver ran along his spine, and he heard a low, dark voice, in which there was a distant echo of a raging storm:
"Do not provoke me again - ever. Never bring me to this state. Because then I am able to... " he stopped suddenly, like someone who realized that he'd said more than he'd intended. Or, he couldn't put into words what he meant. For a moment his voice had turned to ice... melting ice.
Snape said nothing more. There was silence; a silence in which the only sound Harry could hear was the breathing of the man next to his ear. He closed his eyes. His whole body seemed to vibrate with anger and grief - tearing him apart, but the steady, calm, warm breath that brushed his neck was very soothing. After a moment, Severus straightened up, and the soothing breath disappeared. Anger flared again, and when Harry was ready to open his eyes, he felt the gentle touch of a cool hand on his nape - like a hand of a tamer soothing an enraged animal. Under this touch, his raging emotions began to fade slowly. A deep sigh broke from Harry's chest. Snape's fingers were gently stroking the nape of his neck and it had a calming effect. Very, very slowly the calmness began to fill his heart. The beast withdrew. Not very deep, but enough so he could finally breathe deeply.
Involuntarily, he leaned his head back. The cool hand moved from the nape of his neck to the bare skin beneath it, stroking and caressing. A lingering groan escaped Harry's throat. He felt a heat. He felt... good.
If his eyes hadn't been closed, he would have seen that a mysterious smile appeared on Severus' face.
Yes, it was a real skill to lead a beast to the verge of fury, and then calm it down with one simple touch.
Only the best could do it, only those who possessed all the secrets of...
...taming.
* "Evidence" by Marilyn Manson