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Happy fandom swap, monifieth!

Title: The Angles Are Moving
Author: me_midget
Fandom. Harry Potter
Summary: Harry is only on a short stop at Grimmauld place, when he suddenly finds someone on his doorstep he hadn't quite expected.
Pairings: Harry/Snape
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort



Harry walked through the empty halls of Grimmauld Place, sliding his hand along the cold stone walls. It was unusually quiet now that Mrs. Black's portrait had been taken off the wall, no matter how hard and loud she'd screamed. Remus was on a mission and only Merlin could know when he would be back. Ron and the rest of Weasley clan - including Fleur and Hermione - were in Romania, finally taking some well earned vacation, which would hopefully take them out of Voldemort's cross fire; while he had made clear that he would stay and practice his Magic. Which was not at all what he had planned, but nobody needed to know that.

Harry walked down the stairs into the kitchen and started to boil some water for his tea. Thank God he was allowed to use magic. Harry sighed and let the cup sail through the air, making it do loop-de-loops.

He had just stood up to take the whistling kettle from the hearth when a loud thud from upstairs caught his attention. Harry grabbed his wand tightly and sprinted upstairs. Who - the hall was empty. He knew he was being ridiculous. The house was warded and under Fidelius. Nothing could happen to him here, unless the new secret keeper - Remus - spilled and Harry knew that the man would never do that, no matter in which trouble he was in. But what had caused that thud? He was alone in this house. No monster, houseelves or poltergeists. He had checked. Twice. Harry's eyes wandered to the door.

Of course.

Carefully he opened the door, expecting everything, but not this. Not Severus Snape lying unconscious and bloody on his doorstep.

"Holy fuck!" Harry breathed and bent down to feel for a pulse. There, barely locatable. His fingers were red when he pulled them back. Harry looked around frantically. Nobody. He was alone and he couldn't well leave him out here. Goddamn it. Panicking slightly he drew his wand and levitated Snape into the house, up into one of the vacated rooms. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't call anyone for help. He couldn't fetch a healer and Snape needed healing. But Harry had been in the Hospital Wing for so often now that he could at least do something. Maybe. And he knew where the labelled potions stood. Some flicks of his wand let a bowl of warm water, a washcloth, healing salves (they were never short of those here) and bandages sail over to him. This only left one problem.

"I'm so glad that you're not awake for this ..." Carefully he opened the remaining claps of Snape's robe and took it off. Not much to Harry's surprise it revealed a black, old fashioned combination of trousers and dress shirt underneath. It was sticking to Snape's body and was torn in several places, like Snape's outer robes, clearly soaked in blood. "This is going to be bad ... You know, this wasn't what I imagined when I was thinking about 'getting you naked'." Harry mumbled. It took him a while to get his Potions Professor out of the clothes and when he had finally managed and had taken a look at what was in front of him, he gasped. Cuts, bruises, whipping marks ... It was obvious that who ever had done this to Snape had not let him wear his clothes for the 'fun part'. He wasn't even wearing any underwear anymore. Harry closed his eyes and prayed to whatever God was listening that Snape hadn't had to endure THAT. Then he took the washcloth and gently began to clear the mess away.

It was weird to touch the man like that. Sure, Harry had long came to terms with being gay - after all sharing the dorm with some guys, who were quite attractive, or sleeping with some of that species in the same room in the Burrow had eventually let the penny drop - even for Harry. Though he had also gotten some 'help' from George.
Not many knew about it, only Ron, Hermione and Ginny since Harry valued his privacy. But nothing of this did help with touching the injured body of Severus Snape, who suddenly looked strangely fragile - a word he had never before associated with the man. When Harry applied salve to the wounds on the hips, after he'd magically sealed them together as good as he could, he tried not to look at what hang between Snape's legs. He tried to ignore the strong feeling of worry when he wrapped the bandages around the limps or when he tucked him into the blankets and put a cold washcloth on the man's forehead. He sank down on a chair. Of course this had to happen now and in this situation. He couldn't call for help, couldn't even ask Hermione for advice, not when Snape was considered a traitor by everybody who hadn't been in the tower that fateful night.
He looked at the man again. Cruciatus, no doubt. Cast several times and would explain the fever. Several painful hexes. Misuse of Bobotuber-pus most likely. Beatings. Whippings. Burnings. Torture for way too long. Why did this happen? Why now and why like this? Hadn't he done what they wanted? He had killed Dumbledore, after all, when Malfoy couldn't do it. Where was Malfoy anyway? Had they ... had they killed him? And how had Snape managed to escape? Why wasn't he dead already?

Harry sat motionless for hours, doing nothing other than staring at Snape.

Then the man opened one of his swollen eyes and Harry immediately kneeled over him.

"Potter..." Snape rasped though his broken lips.

"They found out." Harry said and it wasn't even a question. Snape nodded and Harry held a flask against his lips. "Drink this." He marvelled shortly that Snape was obeying, before repeating the procedure with a different potion. Snape opened his mouth again, but Harry laid a finger on the man's lips, strangely knowing what he wanted to ask. "Pain relieving potion and something against any infections that you might have. I used healing salve on your wounds. Now drink some water and go back to sleep." Harry held a glass to his lips. "Sleep."

As soon as Snape was out again Harry went down to the kitchen. The kettle had somehow exploded, but Harry barely acknowledged it with a swish of his wand that let the shards vanish. He took some soup out of the freezer and put it on the heater. Thanks to the Heavens for Molly Weasley. Harry sat down at the table and rested his head on his hands. How the fuck had this mess happened?

He was a teenager - his inner voice scoffed dryly and Snape-like; after all he was the one who always said he was an adult by now - and not made for situations like this. Why the sudden change in events? What had become of the good old "torture-Harr-and-let-him-fight-a-bit-so-he-can-be-patched-up-by-the-gown-ups-again"?

Since when - Oh bugger it all.

He filled the soup in two bowls and carried them upstairs. Since Snape was still sleeping he placed a warming charm on one of them and began to eat.

Harry thought about the past weeks. Of the burial, the forced week at Privet Drive, where he'd done nothing but mourning and thinking about the stupid Horcruxes and where to find them. Grimmauld place had only been supposed to be a short stop. He'd never intended to stay longer than two nights. But now he couldn't well leave. Not with Snape being barely alive and with nobody he could ask for help. None of them would understand why he was helping Dumbledore's murderer, because they hadn't been there, hadn't seen the pain in Snape's eyes, the relief in Dumbledore's and the fear in Malfoy's. They hadn't been there and they would never understand. Sirius wouldn't have liked it, but that didn't matter anymore.

Harry sighed and went to check on the bandages. They needed changing and Snape needed another dose of that anti-fever-potion.

Two days later Harry woke up in the middle of the night. He'd heard a scream and his dream deluded brain half expected Sirius to stand in the doorway and point at Snape, but there was only darkness and no enraged dead man. Snape was trashing in the sheets and Harry was at his side immediately. The man breathed harshly and his face was torn up in a mask of agony.

"Shit! Snape? Snape, wake up!" Harry said, but Snape didn't react, only tossed harder to a point where even his arms were flying around wildly.
What was the man dreaming? Did he even want to know?

Afraid that Snape would hurt himself if he kept going on like that Harry flung himself on him, pinning him down effectively.

"Wake up! Wake up dammit!" Harry screamed and suddenly Snape went still. Harry turned his head ever so slowly until his eyes met Snape's dilated ones. Their breathing went fast and at first Harry didn't move away, getting lost in those eyes that for the first time didn't stare at him with hatred pouring out of them. This time they were looking at him with a mixture of what? Fear? Shock? Interest?

"You're awake." Harry whispered and pushed himself up until he sat next to Snape on the mattress. "Are you alright?" Snape only continued to stare at him. "You were having a bad dream."

"Your talent of detection -" Snape finally rasped and was stopped by Harry's hand on his lips, which was pulled away immediately like it had been burned.

"Drink something." He handed Snape a glass of water, but the man's hand shook so badly that some of the water spilled on the blanket. Harry took the glass and brought it to Snape's lips. "How are you feeling?" Snape looked at him in a way Harry couldn't quite define.

"Better."

"Are you sure?" Harry stood up and went to pull the blankets away to check on Snape, but the man clung to them as if they were the only thing between him and a hungry monster. Harry cleared his throat and looked to the side, not sure of what to do. "A-any pain?"

"My deltoid on the right side, my ribs on the same and my rectus femoris on the left hurt, which is to be expected after ... after that." Harry nodded and fetched a new vial with potion. He held it up to Snape's mouth, but the man shook his head. "No, not this one. It makes the drinker tired. Do you have a magenta coloured one?" Harry nodded again and came back with the other potion. Snape sighed in relief when he had swallowed and settled back into the pillow. "Now, Potter, when will the troops arrive?"

"Troops? I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"The rescue team to come to your aid to save you from the evil, old ex-Potions Master."

"You aren't old." Snape blinked startled at that comment. It was barely what he had expected to hear. "And I haven't called for anybody."

"Is that so, Potter? Are you on a masochistic trip nowadays?"

"More or less." Snape blinked again. "You should try to eat something."

"Soup again." Harry barely shrugged.

"Yeah. But I could make you something else if you want."

"Thank you, but I think soup will be enough for now."

"Never thought I would hear that from your mouth." Harry mumbled, but was obviously heard, since Snape murmured back: "Never thought I would say that to you." Harry shook his head.

"Do you need help with eating?"

"No. Now go and ... frolic somewhere else."

Harry had just checked up on Snape, who was lying in his bed, quiet and unmoving as if he wasn't only sleeping, and stepped into the bathroom. It was always warmer in here than in the rest of the house, which was - despite the summery temperatures outside - always cold, and Harry was thankful for that when he undressed, leaving his clothes in a messy pile on the floor next to the door.

Harry sighed when the hot water finally cascaded down on his back and started to massage the tension away. The past days had taken their toll on him, no matter how hard he had tried to keep the distance between him and his patient. Of course he had failed at this task. Seeing Snape like that, injured and helpless, had shaken him more than he could admit.

And seeing Snape naked ... that had made his body react in a quite different way. Only thinking of it made him harden and the feeling of guilt because he got that way over a man, who had nearly died on his doorstep, couldn't change a thing about it. Slowly he sneaked his hands down on his body, leaving trails of shower gel and foam all over his chest and stomach. He rubbed his nipples to hardness, then wandered further to dip his fingers slowly in and out of his bellybutton, mimicking what he longed so much for, before reaching down and cupping his balls. Harry groaned audibly and leaned his head against the tiles while he panted heavily alone from his gentle touch. In front of his inner eye Snape's lean body appeared, lying on the bed and sweating from the summer heat that came through one of the open windows. He was murmuring in his sleep, sinful moans spilling over his lips while he tossed and turned from a dream that surely was arousing.

"God..." Harry breathed and moved his hands up and down his hard shaft, gliding over the ripples and bumps and tightly filled veins. The head of his cock was throbbing almost painfully when he formed a tight channel with his hand and started fucking it, while his other hand was dancing over his entrance, slick with shower gel. Harry let out another hungry moan and started pushing back too, trying to get as much from both of his hands as he could get.

He could feel his orgasm building up and sped up the motions of his hands, not being able to hold back the moans. The thought of Snape watching him entered his mind and he finally came with a small shout, spurting out in streams.

When he stepped out of the shower a light breeze that came through the slightly opened door made him shiver.

Two days later Harry was busy chopping carrots in the kitchen for his potato-carrot stew when suddenly Snape entered the room. Harry startled and dropped the knife. Snape barely shot a glance his way and sat down. He'd been avoiding looking at Harry for a while now and the only guess Harry could make about that was that Snape couldn't stand his presence anymore. No wonder had he always hated Harry with every fibre of his being. Harry's heart sunk at that thought, but he chose to ignore it and go back to chopping.

"I see you're well enough to walk around on your own." Harry said when he bent down to pick up the knife.

"Brilliant observation, Potter." Snape said after a while.

"Don't be like that." He put the carrot pieces into a pot. "How are you feeling? Pain-wise, I mean."

"Sore. Tired. ... How come you are a nurse now, Potter?"

"You broke down on my doorstep." Silence. Unforgiving and heavy silence. "Don't say it."

"Don't say what?"

"Don't say 'Had I known only you would be here, Potter, I would've broken down somewhere else.'"

"I didn't want to say that." Harry snorted and started chopping potatoes.

Neither he nor Snape said anything until they had finished eating.

"That was rather good." Snape said and raised his wand to spell the dishes away. Harry stopped him quickly.

"You're still too weak for that." He took the plates and went to rinse them in the sink, thankful to be finally able to do something. "You should go and lie
down again."

"Worried about me, Potter?" Harry closed his eyes.

"No. But the sooner you are well enough to be on your own the sooner I will be able to leave." Harry turned around and leaned against the counter, trying to look steely at Snape.

"Pray tell, Potter, where will you go? The Burrow? I heard Bill Weasley's wedding with that French Veela wench would be this summer." Harry gritted his teeth.

"Bill married Fleur already, if you want to know. I was there and left again and I won't come back for a while."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That is none of your business."

"Are you going to finally get yourself killed on an idiotic mission you decided in your teenaged wisdom was necessary?" God, how he wished to able to see into the man's soul, how he wished to able to see any flicker of emotion in his beetle-black eyes.

"Oh." Snape breathed. "You are." Harry bit his lip and stared at the floor. "Horcruxes. You are going to search for them."

"How do you know?" Harry wanted to know, his surprise apparent in his voice. Snape tipped his fingers against his temple.

"You forget the powers of the mind again, Potter. You should not neglect your training in this field of magic. The Dark Lord is far more ... able to search an other's mind than me." Harry looked at Snape and didn't know what to say. Instead he went to check the contents of the freezer for the fifth time today. "Potter?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"How about the truth?"

"You mean you don't know everything already from looking into my mind? Fine. I'll go and look for the damned Horcruxes, I'll find them and I'll destroy them. If I haven't died while doing this, I'll go and face Voldemort, fight with him and either die or save the world once again. Maybe I'll do both." Harry drew a deep breath and shook himself. "And now, you will have to excuse me, I'm going to bed. If you need my help with anything you can come and wake me." And without waiting for a response he stalked off.

It was in the middle of the night when Harry awoke with a cry. He was panting heavily, his hands pressed to his heart and his eyes firmly pressed closed as if afraid that he would see something horrible when he would open them. If someone had stood close to him in the darkness he might have seen a slight trickle of blood running from his scar down his forehead. But Harry was alone and the horrors of this vision, of seeing Voldemort cackle, surrounded by bloody bodies, were his and his alone. He could still hear the screams, the begging for mercy, could still feel the hot blood splatter on his face, the bones breaking under his feet, could still see the light fading out of once lively eyes whilst a green stream was reflected in them. But most importantly was that he could still feel and hear and see and smell that Voldemort knew all of this.

The sheets felt clammy around him and threatened to strangle him. He had to get out of here. He had to -

He was out in the hall and the cool wood under his feet while he walked over to the other door right in front of him was a welcome change. He didn't knock, didn't even think of it, because this was his house, and walked over to the bed. Through the open window fell some rays of the light of the full moon and he had to think of Remus involuntarily.

Snape startled out of sleep and blinked at Harry.

"Pot-"

"Can I sleep here?" He knew he sounded young and vulnerable, but at the moment he didn't care. Snape didn't say anything for some moments, then quietly lifted the edge of the blanket. He hadn't noticed that he was shaking until he pressed against the still body of his former teacher.

"Did you see anything?" Snape asked quietly after a while.

"Voldemort." Harry ignored the shark intake of breath by Snape. "He killed. God. So many. So fucking many." When Snape touched his shoulder Harry turned around and stared at the man's collar bone.

"Is there anything...?" Snape's voice sounded strangely hoarse.

"Yes." Harry whispered and titled his head up to kiss Snape softly. "Yes." He ran his tongue over the slightly chapped lips, asking for admission. "Yes." And he was granted it. They deepened the kiss quickly, trying to get something, to get more from the kiss than possible. Harry pressed himself against Snape's barely clad body and moaned. "Please..."

"No ... we shouldn't ..." Snape breathed huskily.

"You're not ... not my teacher anymore. And I'm of age." Harry mumbled and moved to kiss Snape again. "Please..." Snape let out a guttural moan and threw Harry on his back, not hesitating anymore. He leaned down and started kissing Harry's neck while starting to remove their clothes. His hands never stopped moving, stroked all over Harry - his arms, his throat, his legs and his nipples and Harry could only arch into the touch and beg for more. It was almost too much when Snape finally lowered his naked body on Harry's, bringing their erections together for the first time.

"Yes!" Harry gasped and moved up against Snape. "More!"

"What do you want?" Snape bit down on his collar bone, never stopping his hip movements.

"Fuck me."

"Your wish ..." The man sucked on two of his fingers and then started circling Harry's entrance before slowly pushing the first finger inside. Harry groaned and closed his eyes while he rocked against Snape's finger, demanding more.

It didn't take long to get him prepared and Harry was begging loudly for more. He needed this so much, needed to lose himself in the sensation of Snape's hands and mouth and cock.

"Turn around." He didn't even question the command, only obeyed and stretched his arse out towards Snape when he was resting on all fours.

"Do it." He hissed quietly and barely two seconds later he felt a well lubricated cock probing his entrance. "Yes!" Snape grabbed his hips and pushed all the way in, stretching Harry's hole.

"Merlin, you're so tight, Potter." Snape sounded like he was biting his lip.

"Fuck me hard!" He didn't have to say that again, because Snape started moving and each of his hard, fast strokes hit Harry's prostate, reducing the young man to a quivering, begging mass. His cock was so hard by now that it hurt and not even the friction that it got from slapping against Harry's stomach was going give him any relief.

"Please, let me ... I need to ..." Harry stuttered and pushed back to meet every single one of the strokes. He sobbed in relief when he felt a cool hand circle his erecting and his eyes rolled back when it started to pump him. Harry's cries where loud and filled the room together with the sound of the wet slapping of their bodies and Snape's panting.

Harry felt his orgasm building up and grabbed the sheets as hard as he could before shouting: "Oh God, I'm coming ... I'm - Yes!" And then he was shooting his hot sperm on the bed and on his belly, his insides clinging to Snape's cock. Snape followed only seconds later, groaning in pleasure and riding out his orgasm, before falling down on Harry, pinning him down.

It was early when Harry was standing at the door, his backpack ready on his back, filled with food and clothes. Dawn hadn't even shown its first tentative streaks on the sky when he opened the door and the air was still fresh and clear.

"Are you leaving?" Snape's voice came from the stairs. Harry nodded.

"It's time." Snape didn't respond, but Harry could hear him coming closer. "Are you going to stay here?"

"Yes. I'm going to contact Lupin or McGonagall as soon as I'm healed."

"I'll send them an owl if you want to. Tell them about what I saw."

"Did you saw anything that could help me?"

"No. But they don't know about that, do they?" Harry turned around and Snape bent down and kissed him.

"Good luck. You are going to need it." Harry nodded, walked out of the house and Apperated.