46. All because of tie
It's the rage that took over it controls you both
But your temper's just as bad as mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love you're just as blinded
Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens
When a tornado meets a volcano
You're in each other's face spewing venom
And these words when you spit'em
You push, pull each other's hair
Scratch, claw, bit'em
Throw'em down, pin'em
So lost in the moments when you're in'em
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts*
More weeks passed. The white fluff lying on the hills surrounding Hogwarts didn't give up and didn't melt. On the contrary. January brought freezing cold, even though the weather was really beautiful. The snow sparkled in the rays of the sun hanging low above the horizon, and the blue sky was reflected in the surface of the frozen lake. Sometimes holes appeared in the ice-covered water area, made by the Great Squid, whose tentacles against the snow-white landscape were clearly visible even from a distance.
Harry sometimes saw them from his dorm window. He also saw Hagrid patrolling the edge of the Forbidden Forest with his faithful Fang running at his leg. He wondered if Hagrid had found any traces left by two pairs of feet in the snow, but he suspected that Severus had been meticulous in removing them.
He tried to go back to that event several times, but the Potions Master always cut the topic short, which annoyed Harry immensely, and they had already had a few arguments about it. But innate curiosity, tenacity and the desire to extract the truth at all costs, no matter how deep it was buried, led to the fact that he managed to extract some information from the man.
It was true that he trained Nott to be a Death Eater. It was true that he did this in the Forbidden Forest, where he taught him Dark Magic curses. It's true that Dumbledore was aware of this, because for Severus' credibility as a spy he had to allow it, but he was not happy about it at all. Harry knew all this, but he still felt a knot in his stomach every time he saw two dots moving towards the Forbidden Forest at night. However, it was no longer a knot of jealousy as at the beginning, but a knot of fear. Although Snape kept his promise and carried thyme extract with him, nothing could assure Harry that something bad wouldn't happen to Severus one day. The only good news was that the Potions Master kept these outings to a minimum, citing lack of time.
The strangest thing was that Severus seemed seriously annoyed that Harry had saved his life. He even said that "the whole show" was completely unnecessary, because if it was really bad, he would have gone to Dumbledore, but Harry knew he wouldn't have done that at all. He was too proud for that.
For the first three days after the event, Snape was extremely cold to him, as if he resented Harry, but there were times when he looked at Harry... differently. The boy wasn't stupid and didn't expect any gratitude, and Snape had already saved his life so many times that he owed him absolutely no debt of gratitude. It was probably Harry who still had a few installments to pay.
They talked often. Harry tried to avoid topics related to his father, Sirius or Lupin, but he couldn't help but ask about Voldemort and why exactly Severus had joined him, but he could never get an answer that satisfied him because Snape immediately strayed from the topic.
Harry was more open. He told Severus about his childhood with the Dursleys; how he found out he was a wizard; about how, in his first year, he suspected Severus of wanting to get the philosopher's stone (which the man responded to with a contemptuous snort); about how he found out about the Chamber of Secrets. He wisely didn't admit that Hermione had stolen the boomslang skin and lacewings in his second year, and that Dobby had stolen the gillyweed from the man's stash in his fourth year, but he felt he should say that it was he and Hermione who had freed Sirius in his third year. The ensuing brawl was indescribable, and in the next lesson Snape didn't fail to take twenty points away from Hermione for a perfectly brewed potion and thirty points from Harry for 'cheating and subterfuge' because his potion 'was too good for being brewed by him alone'. In light of these events, Harry thought it prudent not to mention that he was actually stuck on the stairs while Severus was wandering up the steps in his pajamas, convincing Moody that "Potter's in here somewhere! Potter with his invisibility cloak!" and that in his third year his head was actually in Hogsmeade without permission. Although he suspected that Severus probably guessed the truth anyway. But it wasn't Harry's fault that he kept getting into troubles! These troubles kept getting into him by themselves!
Of course, apart from talking, Snape sometimes helped Harry with his studies, and every time he did so, the boy felt something warm and extremely nice inside. He always dreamed of someone... older. Someone experienced who he could always turn to if he had any problems without feeling stupid. For a short time, that was Sirius. But now that he's gone...
It was true that Snape sometimes couldn't help but make snide comments about his knowledge and skills, but Harry knew that was his nature and had long since stopped caring about them.
Once, after some particularly intense sex, Harry mustered up the courage to ask Snape for the password to his chambers so that 'he could surprise him', but the man said that he usually treats surprises with extremely painful charms and the topic got stuck. Harry swore to himself that one day he would get it out of him anyway. After all, what was a greater sign of trust than giving someone the password to your chambers?
School got rolling and Harry felt like he had more and more to learn every day. He studied and learned, but instead of decreasing, the study only increased, which seemed impossible. It's probably all the magic in the air. It distorted reality. At least the one related to homework.
It seemed that since Ron and Hermione had officially become a couple, Hermione should treat her boyfriend more favorably and help him with his lessons, but she became even more demanding, claiming that she 'wouldn't date a half-wit', so Ron and Harry sometimes stayed up very late on their study while she chirped away with Ginny. Ron quietly cursed under his breath, and when Hermione asked him to repeat, he sank so deeply into his seat that Harry could only see the top of his red hair and his red ears.
Of course, their relationship didn't go unnoticed among the other students. Lavender Brown suddenly became extremely cold and aloof towards Hermione, Ernie McMillian stopped saying 'hello' to Ron in the corridors, and the Slytherins had a new thing to joke about. The main topics of their loud conversations in the corridors and in the Great Hall were: 'Does Granger quote passages from textbooks in bed?', 'Has Weasley already started saving money for another bunch of disheveled redheads?', 'Will their children be called Miss-I-Know-Everything and Weasley-Is-Our-King?', 'Does Potter join them sometimes?' and 'Isn't Weasley afraid that his children will be more similar to Potter than to him?'
Ron seemed to be taking it quite well, until one day he was approached by Zabini in the corridor and asked if he wanted to make some money. At Ron's surprised look, Zabini declared that he had bet everything he had, that Ron hadn't even seen a piece of Granger's panties.
This time Ron couldn't stand it and attacked the Slytherin with his fists, and Harry and Neville barely managed to pull him away. Fortunately, there were no teachers around at the time, but Zabini, who ended up with a black eye, threatened Ron that he would pay for it.
The next day at lunch, when Hermione had gone to the library, Ron pulled Harry aside and told him that he felt something strange and that his skin was getting more and more itchy. Everywhere. By the time he finished speaking, he was scratching his arms, chest, neck and everything he could reach so furiously that he was leaving red and white streaks on his skin.
Harry immediately realized who was the culprit and dragged his friend to Madam Pomfrey. Unfortunately, the nurse said that the ointment for this type of ailment had just run out and she could only give him something that would temporarily alleviate the symptoms. And if he wants, he can go to Professor Snape, who usually has a spare jar.
Ron, of course, hastily declared that he didn't want to, allowed some potion to be poured into him and, scratching himself in some places from time to time, he left the hospital wing, thinking along the way what torture he would put Zabini through if everything just stopped itching him so damn much.
"Let's go to Snape," Harry said halfway there.
"-and then I'll catch him and tie him to that big pole- WHAT?"
"To Snape. For this ointment. You heard what Pomfrey said. The potion she'd given you would only help you for a while."
Ron looked at Harry as if he had suddenly grown a tail. Split at the end.
"Are you crazy? Do you think this bat will give me anything? He'll probably laugh at me and kick me out. And he'll take the points away from me for disturbing him."
Harry rolled his eyes. "He's a teacher, Ron. He has to help you."
"Ha ha. It was supposed to be a joke, right? Snape is going to help me, right? Ha ha. Very funny."
"Would you rather scratch your skin off?" Harry didn't give up. "Come on. He won't eat you." He grabbed Ron by the sleeve and started dragging him towards the dungeons.
"I'm not going anywhere. Leave me!" Ron stopped suddenly and jerked his hand away.
Harry felt irritated. Why doesn't this idiot understand anything? After all, Snape was... Snape. Yeah. A mean bastard hated by everyone. Sometimes he forgot about it.
"Would you rather show yourself to Hermione like this?"
It was a dirty trick. But effective.
"O-okay. But we'll only ask once. If he says no, we'll quit."
Harry smiled and pulled his friend down the stairs. When he found himself in front of the door to the Potions Master's office, at the last moment he refrained from touching it with his hand, as he always did. He pushed Ron forward and told him to knock. The redhead tapped the wooden surface twice and after two seconds he said: "Well, I guess he's gone. Let's go back."
However, seeing Harry's expression, he stepped back and with a sigh, he knocked again, louder this time. After a while, they heard footsteps and the door opened.
"Weasley?" Snape's voice sounded both surprised and irritated. When the door opened further, Severus saw Harry standing behind Ron. His black eyebrows furrowed. "Potter? What do you want?" he growled in his most repulsive tone.
"Uh, we made a mistake," Ron muttered quietly and was about to leave when Harry grabbed his robe and put him back in his place.
"Professor," he began, seeing that Ron would apparently swallow his own tongue rather than dare to ask Snape for anything. "Your students put something in Ron's pumpkin juice and now his whole skin is itchy. Madam Pomfrey said only you had the ointment for it."
Severus's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, what a tragedy," he said with a vindictive smile on his thin lips. "Unfortunately, Mr. Weasley will have to hold out because I happen to have just used up the entire jar."
"Too bad," Ron muttered and tried to escape again, but Harry once again thwarted him.
"But Ron really needs it," Harry said emphatically, seeing the pupils piercing him like a scalpel. He looked at the man with pleading in his eyes, mouthing 'please.'
Snape grimaced and glanced at Ron, who was staring at his feet and scratching his arm.
"Although," he began in a tone as if he had to spit out every word he said, "maybe there was some left. Wait."
He turned around and closed the door in their faces. Harry quickly had to put a neutral face on his face when Ron turned to him with wide eyes and an expression as if he had just found out he had been selected for the national Quidditch team.
But before he could open his mouth and say anything, Snape reappeared in the doorway, holding out a corked, untouched jar towards him.
"Lubricate twice a day," he spat out with such difficulty as if each word hurt his throat. "And if there's anything left, take it to the hospital wing. And don't bother me anymore."
Before he closed the door, Harry gave him another bright smile. Severus' eyes widened for a moment, then disappeared behind the wooden surface of the door.
Ron was so shocked that he only spoke when they reached the Charms classroom, stating that apparently Snape must've celebrated some sort of House Elf Kindness Day today.
Harry didn't answer, but he felt great joy inside him and he suspected that if he let it turn into a smile, the top of his head would fall off.
Sex.
Well, it's hard to deny that it was the most important. Harry had long since stopped counting how many times they had sex in a week. Sometimes in a day too. In every place that was suitable. At any time.
They were both completely addicted to sex. But it seemed to Harry that Snape liked it even more. Although he himself couldn't stop thinking about sex even during meals or lessons. It was getting to the point that when he couldn't meet Severus, he had to give himself a hand-job because he felt like if he didn't, he would explode.
Moreover, sometimes he suspected that the man felt an even greater need. It was enough for Harry to receive one short message: Come! and he knew immediately what condition Snape was in. He knew that as soon as he crossed the threshold of his chambers, he would immediately be thrown to the floor or pressed against the door and fucked so hard that he would have trouble walking again the next day.
Several times, Snape was already waiting for him with his pants down and his penis sticking out, and Harry wordlessly dropped to his knees and swallowed it whole, feeling the man's eyes on him, his eyes shining sickly in the dark, as if he had never seen anything like that before and he couldn't get enough of it, and he still wanted more...
Harry loved licking and sucking Severus' soft, juicy balls because the man moaned so loudly that sometimes Harry could almost cum just from listening to him. After some time, Snape was lifting his penis himself, giving Harry as much access to this sensitive place as possible, and the boy had learned to use his tongue so well that sometimes just a few targeted licks were enough for thick sperm to pour on his hair, like some exclusive shampoo.
His biggest problem was that he was aroused almost all the time. Especially when he was in Potions class and he couldn't look at his Potions Master - who was gliding slowly through the class and giving everyone that wonderfully stern look - without feeling some sort of tension in his lower body. He's always had a hard time with this, but lately it's become even more fraught. Or rather erected. And even thinking about frog brains or manticore droppings didn't help. Whenever his mind was haunted by the vision of this serious man that everyone was afraid of, cumming on his face not so long time ago or breathing into his ear that he would 'fuck him until he won't be able to sit down today', he started to tremble uncontrollably and had great difficulty chopping the mandrake roots without cutting his fingers.
Many times Harry wondered if this was normal. That means, were all the couples like that, and they only thought about when and in what position they're gonna do it this time? Once or twice he even tried to ask Ron about it, but his friend just looked at him with a mixture of embarrassment and dejection and said something like, 'you know what girls are like...'
Harry didn't know. He could only guess. He just suspected that they didn't want to have sex as often as boys. That if a girl appears in a couple, sex is automatically reduced to the necessary minimum. Yet teenage boys think about it all the time. And if the amount of testosterone in a couple is doubled, sex becomes number one. In male-female couples, girls usually suppress the urges of their male half, and when a man meets a man, there is no one to inhibit these urges and an eternal, uninterrupted eruption occurs.
That's why, when sometimes they couldn't suppress their lust, they even met between classes in one pre-arranged cupboard on the second floor. Nothing could compare to the thrill of excitement when Harry read the message after he left the classroom The Cupboard! Now! and, lying about the need to go to the toilet, he ran to the arranged place where Severus was already waiting for him. They didn't waste time on unnecessary conversations, sometimes they didn't even exchange a word. The man simply took him against the wall, breathing into his ear and almost crushing him in his hands, as if he wanted him so badly he could grind him into dust. Sometimes Harry got scratches on his cheek from the rough stone walls of the cupboard or the splintered surface of the door, but Severus always carefully removed all the marks, leaving only those invisible to the eye.
After some time, Harry also started sending him such 'meeting invitations'. However, the Potions Master didn't always show up for them, although when he did, it was always with a certain amount of nonchalance, as if he was trying to pretend that he was there by accident and was just passing by. But when he were all over Harry, he did it with such fervor that each time Harry had to think twice before sending the invitation again.
But he did it anyway.
Damn it!
He shouldn't have looked at him. He felt he was hard, but Potions started in ten minutes!
He sighed and glanced again at Severus sitting at the staff table.
They had never done this before Potions... In fact, he didn't know why. He suspected there was probably a reason, but he didn't feel like thinking about it at the moment. He only wanted one thing.
Whatever! Fuck it all!
"I forgot something," he said to Ron and Hermione, getting up from the table. "Go without me. I'll join you."
Without waiting for an answer, he moved towards the exit of the Great Hall, very clearly feeling the gaze of dark eyes following him away. As soon as he was through the door, he put his hand in his pocket, tightened it on the stone and sent:
The cupboard. Now!
He slung his bag over his shoulder and ran to the second floor. He slipped into the closet and lit a candle on the shelf with his wand.
He threw his bag in the corner and leaned against the wall, wondering if Severus would show up. He watched the door like a hawk, hearing his own heartbeat and the blood rushing through his body and cumulating in his lower abdomen as he imagined what they would do.
He felt his hands shaking with anticipation. He needed to relieve himself, at least for a moment. He carefully slid his pants down over his hips and touched his warm cock, feeling an immediate tug in his loins.
Oh, it's better not to do that! No, it's better to wait for those long, spidery fingers that will soon wrap around it and...
The doorknob moved and Harry felt his heart leap into his throat. The door opened and Severus slipped inside.
"Potter. You do realize that we should both be in the classroom in a moment?" the man asked in a whisper, standing right next to the door and not approaching the boy, although his narrowed eyes hungrily moved along Harry's entire figure, lingering the longest on the erection that was increasingly demanding attention. "Maybe after Potions..."
"We still have seven whole minutes," Harry whispered defiantly, moving closer to Severus and looking up at his thinly pressed lips together. The man shuddered slightly and licked his lips. His eyes seemed to glow with something much hotter than just the reflected candlelight. "If we hurry," Harry continued with the same cheeky smile, "we might even be ahead of everyone else."
Without waiting for a response from the apparently struggling Severus, he reached for his zipper and slid it open. He slipped his hand into his pants, wrapped his fingers around his warm cock and pulled it out. It was so thick and heavy. Perfect.
Slowly, almost lazily, he moved his hand along the shaft, stretching the foreskin and enjoying the sight of the deep ripple of pleasure that appeared on Severus' forehead. The man closed his eyes and sighed.
Harry moved his hand back, feeling the hard, throbbing veins beneath his fingers. He stood on his tiptoes, put his face close to Severus' ear and whispered: "I want you to put it in me..."
It happened almost immediately. The man let out a loud, almost animalistic growl, jerked him around and threw him against the wall. Harry heard the sound of fabric being torn and it took him a moment to realize it was his shirt. At the same moment he felt hot, maddening kisses on his neck and back and a slick erection pressing into him so violently that he lost the breath in his lungs for a moment. Before he could separate the two sensations, a third one appeared. A cool hand wrapping around his heated penis. Moving over it in a rhythm with the thrusts. Stroking it. Squeezing and crushing the testicles. And pulling the orgasm out of him almost by force.
They came almost at the same time. Harry first, scratching the stone walls and pressing his hot lips against them. Snape a moment later, breathing heavily and digging his teeth into Harry's bare shoulder.
For a moment, the only sound in the small room were two ragged, shallow breaths. And after a moment, the hoarse whisper of the Potions Master: "We are late."
Harry lifted his cheek from the wall and adjusted his crooked glasses.
"Huh?"
"Get yourself together, Potter." The man's voice was almost completely controlled now. How could he recover so quickly? After something like this? Harry only had the unpleasant feeling that he was about to fall over. "Reparo," Severus muttered and Harry felt his shirt was in one piece again. "I'm going first. And you're supposed to be in the class in five minutes."
And he was gone.
Harry pulled himself away from the wall and leaned his back against it, still panting and trying to compose himself. His thighs were shaking and he was sweaty. He knew his face probably looked like raspberry jam.
He pulled up his pants, tucked his shirt into them, tied his loose tie tighter, and tried to smooth his hair. He felt so incredibly relaxed and happy that he didn't really care whether he was fifteen minutes late or half an hour late.
Snape won't do anything to him for it, anyway...
However, his predictions were verified right after crossing the threshold of the classroom. He only had time to glance at the clock on the wall and realize that he was twenty minutes late when the Potions Master's sarcastic voice reached him: "Oh, Mr. Potter. What a surprise... If you have more important matters than showing up on time for my lesson, you're free to come back to them."
Harry felt his jaw drop.
"Uh..." he uttered, feeling the eyes of all the students in the class fixed on him. The Slytherins were clearly amused, and so were some of the Gryffindors. Only Ron, Hermione and Neville were looking at Harry with furrowed brows.
"Maybe we'll start by taking away-" the teacher glanced at the clock and waited a moment, "-well, now it would be twenty-one points from Gryffindor for being late. Let's add a round of ten points for a sloppy look and a messed up shirt." Harry quickly looked down and adjusted his shirt, feeling that in his heart embarrassment was fighting for the first place with anger. "Maybe this will teach you not to be late for my lessons, Potter. We would also be extremely grateful if you could tell us what so important kept you from being on time." The man's face showed nothing but vindictive satisfaction, and Harry felt himself begin to shake with anger.
How dare he? This mean, rude, nasty...
He had to come up with something. Fast!
"Er... Well, it's because I- uh... so-"
Severus tilted his head slightly and asked, looking around the classroom: "Does anyone know this language? I think we need a translator."
The Slytherins burst out laughing. Seamus and Dean too. Even Parvati and Lavender bit their lips.
A blush of humiliation spread across Harry's cheeks. Just moments ago this son of a bitch had been fucking him like crazy, caressing his cock like it was the most wonderful toy in the world, and now he was taunting him in front of the entire class. Harry was vibrating with rage and had a hard time restraining himself from making a sharp retort.
"Sit down, Potter. And don't you dare be late again."
"Don't worry, Professor. I won't be late for any more lessons," Harry spat out, his voice dripping with bitterness mixed with burning anger.
Severus frowned.
"And another ten points for your tone, Mr. Potter," he growled. "Silence!" he hissed towards the still laughing Slytherins, who immediately quieted down.
Harry walked over to the bench and sat down next to Ron. His hands clenched into fists so tightly that he had trouble straightening them.
He knew Snape couldn't let him get away with it, not in front of the entire class, but he didn't have to be that mean! He looked like he was furious with Harry for being late to his own lesson.
What a bastard! If he just try to send Harry another message about the meeting! If he just try...
Severus tried. Two days later.
As Harry walked to the cupboard, he kept telling himself that he was only going there to tell him what he thought of him!
He quietly closed the door behind him and looked at the tall, cloaked figure looming in the shadows in the corner. Watching him like a predator lurking in the darkness.
"I've got History of Magic coming soon. I can't be late," he stated coldly, trying to ignore the loud beating of his heart. "I just wanted to tell you this."
He stepped back and reached for the doorknob, but at the same moment something flashed and the door glowed red. He knew what that meant.
"Let me out," he growled, pulling on the doorknob, even though he knew it was pointless. "I have lessons. I really can't be late." He tried to sound convincing, although he didn't seem to succeed very well. Everyone knew that Binns wouldn't notice anything even if not a single student showed up to class.
In response, he only heard a contemptuous snort coming from the corner.
This opened a dam in him.
He turned on his heel and spat out in one breath: "How could you treat me like that? It was so disgusting I can't wrap my head around it! You are a filthy, vicious, nasty, mean, wicked, vile bastard!"
Severus took a step towards him, stepping out of the shadows. He smiled in a way that made Harry feel dizzy and weak in the knees, and his heart and stomach changed places. Black eyes glowed in the dark.
"All of me," Snape whispered hoarsely, and before Harry could take a breath, his shirt was being ripped off and he was being consumed by greedy mouths and hands.
The penis sliding into him all the way to his testicles. The sound of glasses breaking on the stone floor. Moans mingling together in a cacophony of gasps, grunts and sighs. The lips whispering such things in his ears...
Oh yes, they really were addicted.
To themselves.
Lying on the bed in the dark, trying to find a position so that his throbbing ass wouldn't bother him so much, Harry wondered why the hell he was wearing that fucking tie?!
When he realized it was the tie, he could still retreat and run away. Why didn't he do it?
He was still slightly shaky and, to his annoyance, his heart refused to calm down. The echo of the hurricane that had rolled through him was still felt in the throbbing of his temples, the trembling of his hands, and the memories swirling in his head.
He fell onto his side once again and groaned in pain. Not just because of the throbbing ass. It felt like every muscle in his body was strained or torn. He didn't even know he had so many of them. Add to that the bruises and cuts, and he looked and felt as if he had fled the battlefield.
And it wasn't far from the truth.
And it's all because of that bloody tie!
Harry tied his tie around his neck and looked in the mirror. Yes, the black and red stripes went perfectly with the red shirt and black pants. He didn't even know he had a tie in those colors. But if it was in his trunk, it probably belonged to him.
Sometimes, when he went to visit Severus not during detention, but on a weekend, for example, he had to pretend to his friends that he was going on a date with his "secret girlfriend". And he couldn't go on such a date like a ragamuffin, so whether he wanted to or not, he had to wear something other than the usual jeans and shirt.
As soon as he left the Common Room and was a few floors below, he threw on his cloak and headed straight for the dungeons. He slipped into the Potions Master's office, took off his cloak and knocked.
The door opened on its own. Harry entered the chamber and saw Severus sitting in his favorite armchair and pouring an amber liquid into a glass.
Yeah. Harry had noticed some time ago that Snape was apparently addicted to this drink. To all types of alcohol in general. He drank it at almost every meeting. But Harry wasn't surprised at all. He suspected that if he had a job like Severus, who constantly had to risk his life and do all these terrible things, he would try to forget about it too, and what was better memory eraser than alcohol? Except for the Obliviate spell, of course. Besides, if the need to become sober instantly, he always had his sobering potions at hand.
Harry closed the door and smiled widely when Severus glanced at him over his glass.
"Good evening, Sever-" he stopped suddenly, as his attention was attracted by a glow emanating from his chest level. And not only his attention. Severus narrowed his eyes and stared at the tie, now gleaming only blood red. Harry looked down and groaned. "Oh fuck."
Well, that's just great! Now he remembered where he got that tie.
From Ginny.
Red for joy and excitement, and black for anger and fear.
He watched with wide eyes as the tie began to shimmer and become streaked with black.
Anyway. It's not like Snape knows what kind of tie this is. And it will be best if it stays that way.
He walked over to the armchair and sat down, still feeling the man's curious gaze on him. The proportion between the colors was again the same as at the beginning.
"What is it, Potter? Another veiled metaphor?"
"No, just a tie that shows the mood," Harry muttered, trying to get off topic as quickly as possible.
Snape raised one eyebrow. "Do you try to tell me something by this? You know very well that I don't need things like that to know what mood you're in. Your face shows it all too clearly."
Harry bit his lip. "I didn't want to show you anything. I just put it on like that, by accident. I got it as a gift and completely forgot about it. By the way, that antidote test yesterday was really nasty..."
But Snape didn't listen to him. He continued to squint at the tie, which was getting darker and darker. Harry felt his own heartbeat.
Well, Snape couldn't be that intelligent or default!
"As a gift, you say?" he said it in such a way that Harry involuntarily flinched. This tone did not portend anything good. It only meant that Snape suspected something...
"Next time you could worn me before giving us an unannounced test," Harry continued in the same stubbornly carefree voice, even though he could see out of the corner of his eye that the tie had already turned almost all black.
"Hmm," Severus muttered, tilting his head. "A tie that shows your fear... What a cheap, tacky gift. Really, Potter... to accept such crap from someone?"
Harry knew this feeling. Anger bubbling somewhere in the bottom of his stomach. Rising and reaching higher and higher. Blinding.
"This isn't a tacky gift! Neither cheap! Ginny would never-" Harry gasped and bit his tongue, but it was too late.
The temperature dropped dramatically and Harry felt as if someone had opened a window and let in a frosty January wind.
Snape's features sharpened and something icy burned in his eyes. And very dangerous.
"Take it off immediately," he said in an extremely quiet and menacing voice, tightening his fingers around the glass. He looked composed, but it was only an appearance. Harry had never seen such a chilling look. It seemed like there was a fire burning under the man's skin. The knuckles of his hand clenched around the glass turned white.
Harry involuntarily sank deeper into his chair. "But it's just-"
"No discussion!" Snape's angry hiss was even worse than outright screaming.
Harry sighed, reached for the tie, loosened it, and pulled it over his head. If it bothers him so much, he can hide it. He didn't want to start the evening with an argument.
Just as he began to fold the tie with the intention of putting it in his pocket, he saw the man reach for his wand and extend his hand towards Harry.
The sudden realization hit Harry so suddenly that his eyes widened.
Snape wanted to destroy it! His gift! The gift he got from Ginny!
"It's just a stupid tie," he muttered, gritting his teeth and feeling the anger bubbling in his stomach really begin to build up and slowly take over.
"Shut up and give it back to me," Severus hissed, extending his hand expectantly and not taking his eyes off the piece of red and black fabric.
Harry looked at the cloth in his hand.
It was sick. Snape was acting like he was possessed. Harry won't listen to someone like that.
"No," he said quietly, almost defiantly. He unfolded the tie and put it over his head again.
He barely had time to look at Snape's face again, which at the same moment became almost deathly pale, when the man's lips formed the words of a spell and the hand holding the wand came forward. "Accio tie!"
Years of practicing Quidditch and dodging bludgers had paid off. Seeing the flash of yellow light, Harry instinctively pushed his feet off the floor and fell backwards along with the entire chair. He rolled and landed on his knees, looking at Severus with a look of disbelief mixed with horror.
"Incarcerous!"
Several ropes shot towards Harry, but the boy quickly rolled forward and hid behind the seat.
"What are you doing?!" he shouted from behind his temporary shelter. "You're behaving irrationally! How can you act like that, for such a stupid reas-?"
However, he didn't finish because he was interrupted by another spell: "Depulso!"
The chair flew into the corner, hitting the shelves with books that fell to the floor. Harry began moving on all fours towards the door, while trying to yank his wand out of his back pocket.
He turned his head just as Snape, who was standing and aiming at him, leaned forward, knocked over the table and the bottle on it, moving it out of his way, and shouted: "Flagella!"
"Protego!" Harry shouted at the last moment, deflecting the spell, which hit another shelf and chopped the books on it into small pieces. The air was full of flying sheets of paper.
"You insolent little brat!" Snape roared. He looked as if he had completely lost control of himself. He was red with rage, and his eyes seemed to burn with an icy fire that was chopping at Harry's insides and fueling even more resistance within him. "I'm going to call you to order! Flagella!"
This time the flare was much stronger. Harry conjured the shield again, but the moment Snape's spell hit it, he knew it was far too weak. He tried to hold it, but the cutting spell drilled deeper and deeper through it, reaching farther and farther, until-
The shield broke. Harry ducked and felt a stinging splash on his cheek. Something exploded behind him, but all he could see were stars swirling before his eyes. He grabbed his face and felt warm blood under his fingers.
In utter disbelief, he looked at the man breathing heavily, who was glaring at him and cutting him with his gaze almost as painfully as the spell that had touched him.
"I'm giving you one last chance, Potter," Severus said, his voice so cold it could easily freeze even steel. He held out his hand. "Otherwise it will end really bad for you."
Harry stepped back, still holding his cheek. He was shaking all over, and his heart was beating in his chest with such force that it seemed like it wanted to break his ribs.
How can he? How dare he? How even-?
"You are insane!" he exclaimed, putting into it all the hatred he felt towards this man at the moment. "I won't stay here any longer! I'm leaving!"
He turned towards the door, hearing Snape's sharp words vibrating in the air behind him: "Oh no, you won't."
Harry turned his head and saw Severus moving towards him. He ran to the door, stormed into the office, turned around and pointed his wand towards the door, shouting: "Colloportus! Pessulus!"
He stepped back, staring at the door with wide-eyed horror.
Bang!
He almost jumped when he heard a thud, like someone trying to punch the door open.
He turned around and run for the exit of the office when there was a deafening bang and the door flew off its hinges, flying several meters and hitting the desk, causing all the vials, weights and books on it to fall to the floor. Splinters filled the air. Harry shielded himself with his hand, but several of them stuck into his skin. He pulled a long spike from his forearm, threw it to the floor and, without a second thought, ran away. However, before he reached the door, he saw a red flash covering it.
Oh no!
Even before he grabbed the doorknob, he knew it was pointless. He felt his heart beating frantically almost in his throat, and adrenaline flowing through his veins, mixed with rage so suffocating that if he could, he would break down the door in front of him with just his fists. He turned to see a man striding towards him with a mask of such terrible fury on his face that Harry felt as if the man was burning his skin just by looking at it.
He raised his wand, frantically searching for some defensive spell.
"Expel- " He didn't manage to finish. Snape leapt towards him like a predator, grabbed his hand with the wand, slammed it against the door with such force that Harry groaned loudly at the excruciating pain and dropped it from his hand.
"You'll pay for this, you bloody brat," he heard a guttural hiss, and before he could recover, Snape grabbed him by the shirt, yanked him away from the door, and pushed him back towards his chambers. Harry tripped over one of the bottles scattered on the floor and fell to the floor with full force, hitting his forehead on the stone floor. The blinding pain almost drowned out the sound of his glasses breaking. He saw only dark spots before his eyes and his head was spinning. With the greatest difficulty he got up on his knees and, without even trying to find the glasses left somewhere on the floor, he stood up and turned towards the man standing by the door. He was shaking so much that he felt like he was going to fall to pieces.
He saw a dark, blurry silhouette. And red. The red that flooded his eyes, tore him from the inside, made something inside him start to roar, wanting to break out, reach out to Snape, hit him, scratch him, bite him, tear him apart, hurt him...
Like a beast gone berserk, he lunged forward, fists and claws outstretched, and charged at the man. He was hitting blindly, trying to reach the face of the man, his neck, anything, but Snape grabbed his arms, blocking the attack, turned Harry around, and pushed him against the door. He yanked him several times, pushing him into the wooden surface as Harry screamed and craned his neck, trying to bite him, kick him, do anything to feed his burning lust for murder. In that one moment he wanted to kill him.
Snape skillfully dodged the kick aimed at himself, and Harry took advantage of the opportunity and, with superhuman effort, pulled out one of his arms and swung. The man leaned back at the last moment, but Harry's fist managed to hit him in the chin.
Yes!
The beast inside Harry howled. Snape seemed surprised by this turn of events. He grabbed Harry's arm and twisted it. The boy felt a burning pain in his arm.
"I hate you!" he roared, putting so much venom into his words that he was surprised it didn't come out of his mouth. Pressed tightly against the door, with his arms pinned, he had no chance to move. All he could do was breathe heavily and stare at the face of the man towering over him with basilisk eyes. Oh, if only looks could kill...
"I happen to hate you too, Potter." The voice Snape used could burn iron. His teeth were bared and it looked as if it was going to devour him.
Harry felt dizzy and tingling in every part of his body, flowing lower and lower... The adrenaline pumping inside him burned in a fire of rage and something else that flowed through his veins, setting his skin on fire and stimulating certain parts of his body that shouldn't in such a situation be aroused. He was like a loaded bullet, ready to be fired.
"But I hate you more, you fucker!" he screamed and jerked forward, ready to bite.
"How dare you!" The hiss that escaped the man's mouth vibrated with such piercing fury that Harry felt as if his skin was about to be cut. Severus's hand let go of his and shot up, grabbing the shimmering red and black tie and tightening it violently around Harry's neck. The boy felt like he couldn't breathe. He started wheezing, trying to catch his breath, but he couldn't. With his free hand, he tried to pry away the long fingers gripping his tie, but he didn't have the strength to do so. His lungs hurt and he felt so dizzy that he felt like he was going to fall over. His vision blurred even more, he could only see dark spots, when suddenly a steel voice came to him from a distance: "Are you sorry?"
He nodded desperately. The grip loosened. He rapidly inhaled the long-awaited air and immediately began to choke. He had tears in his eyes. He leaned his head forward, breathing heavily and coughing. When he recovered enough to speak, he raised his head and rasped out in a hoarse voice: "You fucking son of a bitch..."
A strong tug on his hair made dark spots dance in front of his eyes again. His head was tilted back and he felt the stinging breath on his face. He looked straight into the two endless tunnels and his breath was taken away once again. A tornado raged in the black eyes. He himself felt like a volcano on the verge of erupting, and he knew that a meeting between a tornado and a volcano could only end in one thing.
Apocalypse.
"You'll soon see what this son of a bitch will do to you..."
And before Harry could think about what he heard, a sharp tug on his hair sent him flying towards the desk. Everything got blurry. All he saw was a dangerously dark countertop approaching. Pain shot through him as he slammed his hips straight into the corner. The air was knocked from his lungs as he was pinned to a hard, smooth surface. His pants and briefs were pulled down to his knees in one sudden movement. A cold hand clamped over his mouth at the same moment that the hard, slippery penis forced its way inside him, squeezing through the unprepared ring of muscles.
He tried to scream, but the hand gripped his mouth too tightly, preventing him from making any sound except a loud moan. After a moment, another hand joined in, pulling his head back so hard that his spine arched.
His ass was on fire, torn apart by thrusts so brutal and angry that Harry felt nothing but fire. He felt as if his insides were shifting with each blow. Snape fucked him with such force that it seemed like he was trying to force himself all the way down to his throat. As if he had really decided to tear him to shreds.
He dug his nails into the black countertop, hearing the desk creak and the sound of cloth-clad hips slapping against his bare buttocks. Behind his closed eyelids, he saw only flames, his whole body was shaking in rhythm with the thrusts, and an endless moan escaping from his throat.
At one point, the hands covering his mouth let go and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back hard with each blow. A torrent of words over which he had no control began to flow from his freed mouth. He lost it a long time ago.
"Yes Yes Yes! Show me how much you hate me! Fuck me! Oh yesss! Tear me to pieces! To shreds! Damn, this is so-o go-oood! Ooooh god..."
Oh, he felt it so clearly. Lava, flowing through his insides, through his veins to his lower abdomen. Anger. Desire. Everything was so clear. Everything was in him. In his throat, in his stomach, it seeped through his skin and ran down it in beads of sweat.
If only it could never end. Never. He wanted to feel it. Life. Emotions. Forever. So strong. Yes... so disturbing.
He opened his eyes for a moment and saw it. Sparks flying everywhere. A glow that warmed the air. Magic so strong that the bottles on the shelves vibrated and floated. Splinters scattered across the floor began to swirl around them, looking as if they were dancing.
Severus was panting and moaning as loudly as never before. Harry could hear his every gasp, floating in the air and falling on his skin. Every moan was dedicated to him.
And then he felt a grip on his throat. Snape grabbed the end of his tie and tightened it around his neck, wrapping it around his hand like a leash. Harry's vision blurred as Severus tugged on the tie, forcing him to tilt his head even further.
Black and red. Alternately. Faster and faster. The colors were flashing. They were interpenetrating each other. The red was burning, swallowing the black. Burning it in its light.
The searing strokes of the cock tearing inside him sped up. Severus was pounding into him with even greater force, pulling Harry's head closer and closer, tightening the noose around his neck as if he had completely lost control.
Everything was spinning. It was rising. It was shining. The air began to hiss and steam. Harry couldn't breathe. Another tug. Hot breath in his ear and Snape's hoarse, fiery whisper: "You draws me crazy..."
There was an eruption. Harry felt as if he was sinking to the bottom of a deep well filled with boiling lava. The whole world exploded. He was coming and coming for so long, as if he would never stop. He heard his own receding scream. More and more quiet and distant.
And darkness enveloped him.
An icy splash on his face made him snap his eyes open. The darkness receded and light entered his eyelids. He blinked several times as he saw Severus' blurry figure leaning over him.
"Oh, have you kindly woken up?"
Then he understood. He must have lost consciousness. He lay on his back on the desk and felt something hot flowing from between his buttocks and a burning pain gripping his neck. He raised his hand and touched the tie around his throat, the end of which was still in the man's hand. It really looked like a leash. The leash he was tied to.
The thought of it made everything in his stomach twitched. Lava rose again in his abdomen.
And he hated himself for it.
He stared at the slender hand clasped around the blood-red symbol of his enslavement and wondered why he felt so... free.
Severus moved and pulled away, releasing the tie from his hand. He walked over to something lying on the floor and picked it up. Harry tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. His glasses!
The man returned to him, took out his wand and tapped it on the broken glasses, muttering: "Reparo."
Harry propped himself on his elbows and allowed Severus to place the glasses on his nose. Only now, when he moved, did he feel that every muscle in his body ached. The world took shape. He saw a man looking at him with a strange, defiant gleam in his eyes.
"Where did we end up?" he asked quietly and grabbed the tie again, looking into Harry's wide-open eyes. But this time he didn't tighten it around his neck, he just loosened it and took it off. Harry didn't resist. He had absolutely no strength for it.
Severus picked up the fabric and, without breaking eye contact, pulled his wand closer to the tie and whispered: "Incendio."
The tie caught fire. The flames reflected in the man's velvet black eyes, and Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he saw something like dark satisfaction in them. He looked down at the burning, hissing cloth that Severus had placed on the desk and felt a strange pang in his heart.
As if his... freedom was burning along with it.
When nothing remained of the tie except for a charred black fringe, Harry looked at Severus again.
The man curled his lips into something like a smile and said in a polite voice: "If we're done, why don't we have some tea?"
Harry smiled back at him.
No. They were both insane.
I can't tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there's a steel knife in my windpipe
I can't breathe but I still fight
While I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right
It's like I'm in flight
High of a love, drunk from the hate
It's like I'm huffing paint
And I love it the more that I suffer
I suffocate and right before I'm about to drown
He resuscitates me, he fucking hates me
And I love it
Wait, where are you going?
I'm leaving you
No you ain't, come back
We're running right back
Here we go again
It's so insane
Cause when it's going good it's going great
But when it's bad it's awful
I feel so ashamed
And snap: Who's that dude
I don't even know his name
I laid hands on him
I'll never stop so low again
I guess I don't know my own strength
You ever love someone so much
You can barely breathe
When you're with them
You meet and neither one of you
Even know what hit'em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah them chills
Used to get'em
Now you're getting fucking sick
Of looking at'em
You swore you've never hit'em
Never do anything to hurt'em
Now you're in each other's face spewing venom
And these words when you spit'em
You push, pull each other's hair
Scratch, claw, bit'em
Throw'em down, pin'em
So lost in the moments when you're in'em
It's the rage that took over it controls you both
Now I know we said things
Did things that we didn't mean
But your temper's just as bad as mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love you're just as blinded
Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens
When a tornado meets a volcano
Next time I'm pissed I'll aim my fist at the dry wall
Next time
There will be no next time
I apologize even though I know it's lies
I'm tired of the games I just want him back
I know I'm a liar
If he ever tries to fucking leave again
I'mma tie him to the bed
And set the house on fire
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie*
* "Love the way you lie" by Eminem feat. Rihanna