Day 40
Day 40
Thursday, October 10, 1996
Severus was strangely unwilling to wake Potter up in the morning; he'd got all of two hours of sleep. He went quietly about his morning routine, showering and dressing in near dark, and then he went and made up a bed on the couch, rumpling the sheets and pillow so it looked like someone had slept there. That finished, he went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, carding his fingers through Potter's mess of hair.
Potter yawned, stretched, and curled himself around Severus' waist.
"Potter." Potter whimpered. Severus rolled his eyes and shook the boy's shoulder. Potter finally sat up and blinked sleepily in Severus' direction. He rubbed at his eyes, frowning, and summoned his glasses. "Where are you going?"
"Breakfast, followed by class. I realize it's been a very long time since you actually used your brain, but others make the attempt on a daily basis."
Potter wrinkled his nose. "Yeah. But I thought--"
"I would put my life on hold? Hardly. I shall return when I can. You're welcome to anything you find in the kitchen, so long as it is not flammable."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he looked away. "When are you coming back?"
Severus frowned. "As I said, I will return when I can."
"When will that be?"
Severus reached out and grabbed Potter's chin, pulling his head up and around. "Talk."
Potter tried to jerk his head away, but Severus clenched his fingers harder, holding him in place. Potter glared at him. "I just don't want to be alone anymore."
Severus felt his hand clench and he let go Potter's chin before he broke it. "Were you alone in that room all this time?" he asked, his voice tight.
Potter nodded miserably.
"I was told you had visitors."
"Just him."
"How often?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Every few days."
Severus ground his teeth. "Potter, I cannot stay here today. Too many people know you're here." Potter's shoulders twitched and he looked up quickly, eyes flashing, and got out of bed. He grabbed his jeans off the floor.
"Look, Snape, if you don't want me here, I'll go somewhere else, all right?"
"You've nowhere else to go."
Potter dragged his jeans up his hips. "I'll think of something."
Severus stood up and moved to block the door, folding his arms over his chest. "You're not going anywhere, Potter," he snapped, and braced for the inevitable outburst.
"What do you WANT from me? There was that-- that SCENE in the infirmary, and then you left and I woke up in that PLACE by myself and you didn't come to get me. If you wanted me, you would have come to get me! And then I come here and you've got my stuff all over the place, and you don't even ARGUE when I say I want to stay. But you don't do anything but insult me and tell me you don't want me here and I'm only here because I haven't anywhere else to go and I don't-- I can't-- I can't keep DOING this, Snape. I can't." He stormed to his trunk and started digging around, presumably for a shirt.
Severus watched the dark lines coming to life underneath Potter's skin, visible evidence of his agitation, and he walked slowly to where Potter was kneeling in front of his trunk. "Potter. Stand up."
Potter shot to his feet and whirled, his teeth bared, looking like he wanted to punch Severus in the face, which he probably did. Severus reached out a hand and caught the back of his neck, pulling him slowly forwards into an embrace. Potter struggled briefly but half-heartedly and eventually relaxed, winding his arms around Severus' waist and resting his head against Severus' chest.
"You need to sleep," Severus murmured into Potter's hair. "Let me give you something that will help."
Potter tensed. "You want to knock me out so you can leave. You can't get out of here fast enough, can you?"
Severus let go and glared down at him. "And is it any wonder with you misinterpreting everything I say and acting like a spoilt child?"
"I'm not--"
Severus was suddenly exhausted. "Potter, wait," he said, dragging a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Stop, and listen to me. I imagine you will find this difficult to believe, but I have reasons for the things I do and say, although I concede those reasons are sometimes terrible and often far from obvious. But you must realize that I am not in the habit of inviting people into my home to stay."
Potter gave him a long, strange look and didn't say anything. Severus crossed his arms over his chest.
"You got two hours of sleep. You have been under quite a lot of stress. It disturbs you to be alone. I have other responsibilities I must attend to. There is no one who can take my classes on such short notice. There are people who know you are here who will become suspicious were I not to put in an appearance. Let me give you something to help you sleep. It will solve every one of those problems, and I shall be here when you wake."
Potter crossed his own arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. "Promise."
Severus felt his lips curling into a sneer. "You don't believe a word I say, Potter. Would promises help?"
"Then tell me you want me here."
"Why? So you can doubt me?"
"You'd have to give me something to doubt."
"You seem to be doing fine on your own. Accio," he snapped, focusing on the potion he wanted. He grabbed it out of the air and thrust it at Potter, who took the flask out of his hand automatically. "That's the potion," he snarled. "I'm late for breakfast. Drink or not, stay or go. As you like."
***
Classes that morning were utterly interminable, and Severus was in foul mood. He was angry at himself for having somehow got so entangled with that infuriating, intoxicating child. He was angry with said child. He was furious with Dumbledore. Gryffindor ended the morning seventy-five points lower than they'd started it.
Despite the argument with Potter, he hadn't particularly wanted to go anywhere, but he didn't think he could have missed breakfast without arousing suspicions. He could and did skip lunch, however, going straight to his rooms and half expecting to find them destroyed and Potter gone. But they weren't, and Potter wasn't. He had taken the potion and was sleeping, sprawled diagonally over the entire bed, covers twisted low around his hips, chest moving in a deep, even rhythm. Severus shook his head at the relief he felt, and then spent an entire minute trying to come up with a reason not to fuck the boy awake.
He didn't manage, but as he shrugged off his outer robe, Potter stirred, stretching and yawning. He sat up, ridiculous hair managing to stick out in all directions despite its length, and blinked at Severus. Severus blinked back. "Lunch," he said shortly.
Potter yawned again and offered him a shy grin, but there was more than a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Having me for lunch, sir?"
"Tempting," Severus said dryly, and then remembered why he couldn't. "But first, the Fidelius. I assume you are staying?"
Potter swallowed and nodded, slightly awkward. "I wasn't under it before."
"The charm does require your cooperation, Potter. Would you have given it?"
Potter's lip curled. "Not to anyone else," he said.
Severus' stomach lurched strangely. "On top of that," he said, swallowing, "had the world at large got word that you were hiding in the West Tower of Hogwarts, they would have blinked, shrugged, and moved on with their lives. If they get word you are sharing my quarters, it will be a rather different story." He drew his wand and frowned. "Although if the Ministry gets wind of your condition, you're likely to end up in Azkaban. And... well, frankly, Potter, it's as much for my benefit as yours. There is quite a lot happening right now."
Potter skittered quickly out of the bed. "Okay."
Severus bit back his lecture about simply saying, "okay," and stood across from him. He concentrated on the remnant strings of the charm within himself, trying to follow them back to Potter. As it had been more than a month since he'd lifted the charm, it was slightly more difficult than it had been the last time he'd re-cast it, but he was relieved to find he managed. Casting the Fidelius the first time was complicated and difficult, but after that it was relatively simple; he spared a brief moment to wonder how Potter would react when he realized he'd not cast the full charm on Severus. He brushed the thought aside, murmured the incantation, and made a mental note to have Potter work on his Latin as he mumbled the response.
"Name your Secret Keeper," he said.
Potter didn't hesitate. "Severus Snape."
Severus felt the magic settle into his bones, felt his body absorbing Potter's presence, felt one more tie to Potter solidifying around his chest, felt himself go light-headed and weak in the knees. He solved that problem by kneeling and smirking up at Potter, who looked down in surprise. "Now. You said something about having you for lunch?"
He spent a reasonably tolerable afternoon with the taste of Potter's come in his mouth.
It went downhill when he looked up after his last class to see Granger and Weasley standing in front of his desk, glaring mutinously. "What do you want?"
"Where is he?" Weasley demanded.
Severus glared at Granger. "I thought we discussed this."
"Discussed what?" Weasley looked between them, and Severus just raised an eyebrow. Granger went red. "Hermione? What's he on about?"
"Enough. Both of you, come with me."
He led them back to his quarters, where there was no sign of Potter in the front room or the dining area. Severus flicked his wand at the couch, folding the pillow and blankets of the makeshift bed and moving them to one of the chairs. "Sit," he said curtly. "Touch nothing. In fact, don't so much as look at anything."
He walked to the hidden door to the bedroom, not particularly happy with anyone who wasn't Potter knowing where it was, and stepped through. Potter was in a pair of flannel trousers, curled up in the corner armchair with a big stack of newspapers he must have taken from the study. Severus scowled as Potter looked up at him with a smile.
"Where did you get those?"
"In there," he said, nodding his head towards the study. "They were right on top of one of the chairs. I thought it would be all right. I didn't touch anything else."
Severus walked over and glanced through the doorway. His eyes swept the room quickly, but he didn't see anything amiss. He turned with a grunt. "Your friends are here."
Potter shot to his feet, newspapers quickly forgotten. "Ron and Hermione? Brilliant!" He started towards the door.
"Mr. Potter," he snapped, halting the boy in his tracks. "You're not going anywhere until you're properly dressed and not reeking of sex. On top of that, I need to tell them you're here before going out there would do you any good."
"Oh," he said, blushing.
Severus examined his face. He looked better than he had; his veins were still dark, but less so, and he seemed more himself. "Well?" he said. "Shall I tell them, or throw them out on their ears?" He hoped his tone made it clear which option he preferred.
Potter rolled his eyes. "Oh, tell them. I'll be right out." He crossed the room and draped his arms around Severus' shoulders. "Don't be too mean to them, okay?"
Severus sneered. Potter leaned up and kissed him until Severus gave in and kissed him back. It didn't take nearly so long as it should have.
He let himself back out of the bedroom, and saw that Granger and Weasley were staring at him from the couch. "Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger." Severus said sharply. Their eyes widened in surprise. "Harry Potter is here, in my quarters."
"Er, okay," Weasley said, frowning. "Why'd you tell us that way?"
Severus narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Potter is under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. There is no other way."
"And he let YOU be his Secret-Keeper?" Weasley looked outraged. Severus bared his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. "Professor?"
"Need I remind you I acted in that capacity all summer?"
"Then where is he? Sir?" Weasley was still suspicious, but Granger was watching Severus with a speculative look which he didn't like at all. He curled his lip in her direction, and she looked away quickly.
"He'll be out shortly. He was sleeping."
Weasley's face turned a rather gratifying shade of red. "He was sleeping? Is that-- he's in your bedroom!"
"Well, it's not like Snape needs it," Potter said from the doorway, grinning. "You know he wanders the halls all night handing out detentions."
"Harry!" His friends sprang up from the couch to greet him. Granger caught him in a hug; Weasley beamed but hung back a bit awkwardly.
Severus scowled. Potter's idea of dressing properly was apparently an overly large t-shirt and that same pair of flannel trousers, and his idea of getting cleaned up consisted of a half-hearted scourgify.
"This is all very moving," he snapped. "But I shall be in my study. Do not touch anything." He turned to go back through the bedroom door.
"Just ignore him," he heard Potter mutter under his breath.
He froze and turned slowly. "Mr. Potter," he said dangerously, "what did I tell you about being in my home?"
Potter tensed and frowned. "Er," he said. Severus ground his teeth and took a step forwards. "Oh! No, sir. I didn't mean to ignore what you said. Of course we won't touch anything. I just meant-- we should, they should ignore your tone."
"And which tone is that?"
The brat shot him a falsely sweet smile. "The one where you're a great pillock."
Granger and Weasley inhaled sharply, and Severus felt his face harden. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, excuse us. Mr. Potter, a word."
He grabbed Potter's upper arm and hauled him back into the bedroom, slamming the door and then slamming Potter against it. "Whatever rights you think you've earned by taking my cock up your arse, boy, you'd best reconsider." Potter's eyes sparked. "I will not have you speak to me with such disrespect, not in front of students I still have to teach. Particularly troublemaking Gryffindor students who already despise me and who regularly undertake to make my life a living hell. It undermines my authority, my position, and compromises my safety. And your safety, might I remind you, hinges on mine. You can -- and do -- say whatever you like to me in private, but when there are other people about, I am still your professor, and you will treat me appropriately. Do you understand?"
Potter bared his teeth and threw himself towards Snape, hands fisting in his robes. "You know, sir," Potter spat, "It's not my fault they despise you, is it? If you weren't such a great fucking prat all the time, maybe your life wouldn't be so miserable!"
Severus grabbed Potter's thumbs and twisted backwards, breaking his grip, and then shoved him back against the door. He closed one hand over Potter's throat and squeezed, leaning in to growl in his ear. "We are not going to do this right now, Potter." He squeezed a little harder, felt Potter's thready pulse beneath his hand. "You are going to apologize, you are going to go out there and tell them you apologized, and if you insist, we will continue this discussion at a time in which there are not two insufferable, nosy do-gooders standing two feet away attempting to listen to our every word." Potter's neck fit easily in his hand, and he squeezed once more before letting go and taking two steps back.
"If you cannot hide the extent of our association, Potter, that association will end."
That got Potter's attention. He sucked in oxygen, his face blotchy, and rubbed at his neck. "You wouldn't."
"Awfully sure of your charms, aren't you?" Severus said, his voice cold, and knew he'd pay for it later. That particular insecurity was one he'd never intended to instill in the boy, and yet there he was. Damn the brat. "Try me."
Pain flared briefly in Potter's eyes before the anger took over again, and he bared his teeth. Fortunately, he wasn't willing to press the issue. "Sorry, sir," he spat, and then he jerked the door open, stepped through, and slammed it behind him.
Still fuming, Severus went and sat in the corner armchair to listen to as much of their inane babble as he could stomach. The door was sound-proofed in one direction, allowing him to hear anything that went on in the other room while ensuring no one out there had heard a thing. He crossed his legs and wished for a drink.
"Er, did you hear any of that?" Potter asked.
"No," Granger said. "But we're not blind, Harry. Your neck!"
"Erm, yeah. Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have said that. I apologized."
"You apologized to that greasy git for telling the truth?" Weasley. Severus ground his teeth.
"Harry," Granger said slowly. "I know you were with him all summer, but I don't know if-- I mean, if he's hurting you--"
"He's not," Potter said. "He's... complicated. It's complicated. But we're fine, really."
"But Harry, he shouldn't be... touching you," Granger said. Severus snorted, amused despite himself. "I know he's not as awful as everyone says. I've been taking an independent study, and he's been... well, all right. But--"
"You're both mental," Weasley cut in angrily. "Snape is not all right. He's a greasy bastard and he keeps taking Harry away."
"Ron--"
"I'm sorry, mate, but you were with him all summer. We thought you'd been murdered! And then we find out you weren't, you were just KIDNAPPED, and he brings you back half-dead and he's all you can talk about. You get sent away, and me and Hermione get you out without any help from him, and what do you do? You run straight here. Look at you. And you're defending him. It's sick, Harry."
Through the Fidelius, Severus felt Potter's agitation growing. He sighed and stood. Perhaps Potter hadn't been quite ready for visitors.
"Leave it, Ron," Potter snapped. Definitely angry.
"No! I'm not going--"
"Ron!" Granger cut him off. "Be quiet. I think there's -- Harry, what's wrong?"
Severus pulled the door open and his eyes flew to Potter, standing in front of the fireplace facing the couch, skin crawling and eyes angry. "Visiting hours are over," he said to Granger and Weasley, who were staring at Potter with poorly disguised fear. "Go." They stood up slowly. "Now."
Weasley went a little red around the edges. "What'd you do to him? When can we see him again? Why--"
"RON!" Potter yelled. The air around him crackled. Weasley and Granger paled. Severus moved a few more paces into the room, bringing up the gaes and putting himself between Potter and his idiot friends.
"Calm yourself, Potter," he snapped over his shoulder. He turned to glare at Granger. "Get him out of here."
She nodded and tugged on Weasley's arm. He bared his teeth in a truly pathetic attempt at intimidation, but let her drag him off. Severus strengthened the wards behind them, and then slowly turned to face Potter.
Severus studied Potter carefully; the boy's mood swings were in danger of leveling the castle. Merlin knew why he couldn't listen to Weasley disparaging Severus when he'd been doing it himself not five minutes prior. Something had to be done, and soon, but Potter needed to calm down first. Severus couldn't tell from his face what he wanted, and the Fidelius wasn't giving him much to go on, either; it could only tell him that Potter was upset. He took a step forwards, Potter's wary green eyes watching him closely.
He reached a hand towards Potter's face and carefully removed his glasses, floating them to the nearest table. Potter's eyes fluttered shut, and Severus took another step forwards and began to trace the lines under Potter's skin with his fingers. They were slightly warm to the touch. "Do they still hurt?" he asked quietly. Potter tensed and shook his head. Severus took another step, closing the distance between them, and slid his hand around to the back of Potter's neck. The muscles there were in knots, and Severus dug his fingers into them, rubbing the tension away. Potter dropped his head to Severus' chest with a low groan and Severus' free hand came to rest on the small of Potter's back, holding him close. Potter's arms slowly came up to wrap round Severus' waist, and they stood like that until Severus felt the tension drain out of Potter, out of the air around them.
"Go lie down," he said into Potter's hair. "I'll be there in five minutes."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he stepped back and looked up at Severus, his eyes huge and strangely frightened. Frightened was not a particularly good look on Potter, and Severus leaned in and kissed him softly. "Perhaps four minutes."
Potter's lips twitched and he turned to go back in the bedroom. The door disappeared behind him and Severus stepped through the fireplace into his office, where he charmed the door to sound a knock in his bedroom should anyone need him. He was expected to be in his office until supper in case any students needed assistance, but he could count on one hand the number of students who'd been foolish enough to stop by in the last ten years. He then scribbled a quick note to Dumbledore canceling his classes for Friday; he had no desire to fight with Potter every morning, and it wouldn't kill him to make a concession to the boy's latest neurosis. Nor would it kill Dumbledore, who'd inflicted said neurosis. That done, he stepped back through the fireplace to his quarters and entered the bedroom quietly.
Potter had stripped his clothes off, leaving them piled in the middle of the floor, and was curled up in a ball under the covers. He didn't open his eyes when Severus walked in, and Severus shucked his own clothes and slid into the bed, curling his body around Potter's smaller frame. He was shivering despite it being fairly warm in the bedroom, and he burrowed closer to Severus, breathing deeply. Severus felt his arms tighten, and he buried his nose in Potter's hair.
"I don't imagine you want to discuss this, Potter, but it's past time."
Potter's body twitched slightly. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I know." He paused and sighed. "What's wrong with me? Why am I... I mean, I know everyone says teenagers are-- are all crazy. But I feel like I could explode any second. I get so angry over stupid stuff. I didn't last five minutes with Ron and Hermione, and they're my best friends. This thing inside me is... it wants things. I don't understand."
"Do you remember what I said to you in the infirmary?"
"You said it was everything dark, yeah. And you told Dumbledore -- and that's a good trick with the door, by the way -- you told Dumbledore that there was no way to get rid of it. I have to accept it and control it. But I feel like... like it's controlling me."
Severus chose his words carefully. "In a way, it is. It's not sentient; you've not been possessed. You needn't worry about that. But there is a presence inside you, a sort of primal force. It has... urges. As you said, things it wants. And the more you fight it, the more it's going to want them, and the less control you shall have."
"I don't... that doesn't make sense."
"You have to give it what it wants, Potter. It's going to be difficult at first, deciphering what the urges mean and how much or how little it will take to satisfy them. But you need to feed its hunger so it quiets down. Once it does that, you'll be able to exert more and more control over it. Because you're right -- at this moment, it's fighting you. I believe that's what the lines are, a physical manifestation of the struggle."
"Er. But won't feeding it just make it want more? That's the part that doesn't make sense."
"Yes and no," Severus said, trailing a hand down Potter's side with a slight smirk. "Imagine it's a randy teenager. You slake its lust, it falls asleep. It's likely to wake up wanting more, yes, but you have other things to do. While it's asleep, you take the opportunity to restrain it, tie it up, exert a little more control. Obviously it won't last forever, but each time it happens, you'll regain a bit more control, a bit more of yourself."
Potter was quiet, his breathing deep and even, and Severus hoped he was thinking rather than sleeping. Finally he said, in slightly amused tones, "I'd better not wake up tied to the bed." He squirmed, wiggling his backside against Severus, whose cock was at half-mast already.
"Don't distract me, Potter," he snapped half-heartedly, nipping Potter's earlobe.
Potter snorted and turned to lay on his back and look up at Severus, who propped himself up on one elbow. "How will I know what it wants?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Fancy being buggered on broken glass?"
"Oh." Severus splayed his hand over Potter's stomach, watched the muscles quiver under his touch. "I don't want... you'll have to do it, won't you? Hurt me?" he said, his voice small.
"If that's what you think it wants. But I--" He sighed. "I doubt it wants you dancing on the end of a Cruciatus, Potter. I have hurt you before."
"Oh," he said, frowning in thought. "You mean, bites and stuff? Bruises?"
Severus swallowed. "Probably a bit more extensive than that, but as I said. Nothing major. Nothing agonizing. Nothing permanent." He swallowed again, wondering if Potter had noticed his cock rising. Time to move on. "What else does it want? Do you want?"
Potter looked away and then curled back on his side, pressing his back to Severus. Severus sighed and lay down next to him, curling one arm around his waist and sliding the other under his head. Potter reached out to stroke his forearm, and then spoke almost too quietly for Severus to hear him. "Sometimes I want to hurt you," he said.
Severus shut his eyes against the wave of -- something -- that crashed over him, driving all the air from his lungs and making his stomach lurch strangely. His arm tightened around Potter and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "All right," he said softly. Madness.
Potter went rigid in his arms and turned back over, looking at him incredulously. "What? All right, what?"
Severus snorted and propped himself back up on one elbow. He reached for calm. "Potter, I'm hardly suggesting you hit me in the head with a brick."
Potter's suspicion seemed to increase. "And you'll just... let me? You're just going to take it?"
Severus kept his face carefully blank as he thought about it. It had been a long time. "That is the idea, yes." He paused, wondering how much he should say. He was so hard it hurt. "Although I am a bit out of practice with that end of things."
He watched as Potter tried to make sense of that. "I'm not sure I know exactly what we're talking about," he said. He seemed upset.
Severus pushed the fringe off his forehead. "I know," he said. "I'll show you."
Potter bit his bottom lip. "What if I can't?"
"Hurt me?" Severus snorted softly. "I very much doubt that will be a problem. But if you cannot, then you cannot. The world will not end."
Potter nodded, thinking it over, still chewing on his bottom lip. "What if it-- what if it wants me to kill someone? Would it want that?"
Severus sighed. The boy was going to give himself an ulcer. "As you are a less than competent murderer, Potter, I'm hardly concerned. But you're more than welcome to kill me again if you like. It worked so well last time."
Potter made a strange face, somewhere between a flinch and a wry smile, and stared fixedly at Severus' chin. "I-- you-- but you don't-- bugger. Never mind."
"You don't honestly believe you're going to get away with that?"
"I was hoping," Potter muttered, his eyes briefly meeting Severus' and darting away again. "It's stupid," he said.
Severus didn't make the obvious remark, but he couldn't quite keep his eyebrow still. Potter rolled his eyes. "All right, fine," he said, still looking at Severus' chin. "I didn't mean to get all weird this morning, about you leaving. But I just-- I can't tell. I never know what to believe. I don't think you'd let me stay if you didn't want me here, and I don't think you'd have sex with me if you didn't like it. But you're such a prat about everything all the time that I forget about all the things you don't say. And I think it's what you don't say that counts."
Severus listened expressionlessly and wished very much he'd never asked. Now he was obliged to come up with some sort of answer. Potter's eyes were darting to his nervously and then looking away again, and it was making Severus want to throttle him. "I see," he said, swallowing. "Your points, amazingly enough, are not wholly invalid. I've had more people stampeding through my rooms in the last two days on your account than I've allowed in the last ten years. But be that as it may, Potter, you do realize I mean it when I say you've nowhere else to go? Should the public get wind of your condition, they'd panic. The Ministry would attempt to capture you and throw you in Azkaban, and you'd have to go quietly or kill everyone they sent."
Potter stiffened and shook his head a little frantically. "I couldn't--"
Severus grabbed his chin and forced Potter to meet his eyes. "You could," he said matter-of-factly. "If you wanted to."
"I don't," he said, his jaw set stubbornly.
"Then don't," Severus returned mildly. He let go of Potter's chin and the green gaze turned deep and searching. Potter reached up hesitantly to touch him, and Severus shut his eyes and breathed deeply, not moving as light fingertips traced his cheekbones, his lips, his eyelids.
"Everyone's scared of me," Potter said quietly, sounding rather scared of himself. "But you're not."
"No," he said, opening his eyes. Abjectly terrified was a much more precise term. But his own fears had nothing to do with Potter killing everyone in the Ministry's employ, and were thusly ignored as irrelevant to the topic.
"I-- it's not just the gaes."
Potter hadn't voiced it as a question, but Severus answered it anyway. "No," he said again.
"How am I supposed to live like this?" A harsh bark of somewhat hysterical laughter escaped his throat. "I hate the only person I can stand to be with."
Severus felt his mouth curl into a sneer, an automatic response when he didn't know what else to say. It was painfully clear that Potter didn't hate him, for all he -- and Severus -- wished he did; it would have made things simpler. It was clear the boy wanted some sort of reassurance, but comfort was not Severus' forte and he was loath to spend the weekend catering to Potter's insecurities. On the other hand, provoking the brat currently ran the risk of leveling Hogwarts. And gaes or no, Severus very much doubted he would survive being crushed by falling rock. The middle ground, then.
"You're not supposed to live like this," he said. "You're to master it and move on, or die in the attempt."
"That's very comforting, thanks."
Severus raised an eyebrow and pitched his voice lower. "There, there, Harry," he said, his voice far too dry to pull it off properly. "Everything will be all right."
Potter's eyes widened and a grin flickered across his face. "That's even less comforting."
"Indeed," he said. "I can offer you only one sort of comfort, Potter. If you're after vague reassurances and empty platitudes, you'd best look elsewhere."
Potter thought about it. "I think I've had enough of those. I'd just as soon hear the truth."
Severus raised his eyebrows. "The voice sounds like Potter's, and yet it speaks sense."
Grinning impishly, Potter wiggled closer, bringing his hip snug against Severus' erection. "You said something about comfort?"
"So I did," Severus said, and leaned down to kiss the grin off the brat's face. They barely paused to breathe as he rolled Potter underneath him and settled one leg between Potter's own, allowing them to thrust against one another. He'd been ready before Potter was, but Potter was somewhat lacking in stamina and it wasn't long before he was whimpering into Severus' mouth and clawing at his back, begging with his body. Severus pulled up slightly and reached for Potter's cock, stroking him quickly to orgasm as Potter gasped into his mouth.
He pulled away a bit more and grabbed one of Potter's hands, using it to gather up as much of Potter's come as he could. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling Potter with him, and arched into the pillow with a gasp as he curled Potter's slick hand over his cock. Potter's hot mouth latched onto his neck, and he inhaled sharply, thrusting into Potter's hand. He showed Potter how to stroke him: far more slowly than Potter liked to be stroked, and with a grip so hard it bordered on pain. Potter turned out to be a quick study, and it wasn't long before Severus' hand dropped to the sheets and left Potter to his own devices.
He frowned slightly when Potter's mouth went away, and he opened his eyes to see the boy sitting up and watching him intently. He shut his eyes quickly; it was one thing to watch Potter watching him while they were both mindless with lust. It was another thing entirely when it was just Severus. He felt Potter's other hand curl hesitantly around his balls, and it was with no small measure of relief that Severus welcomed that distraction. He covered Potter's hand with his own and tried not to curse aloud as he showed Potter what he liked, and Potter stroked up with one hand and pulled down with the other and it was really very good.
He let go of Potter and clutched at the sheets by his legs, thrusting up into Potter's hands, warm and rough and oh, fuck, the brat knew exactly what he was about and Severus couldn't be bothered to wonder when that had happened. He was just glad it had. He was close, so close, and he was about to groan Potter's name when he felt that mouth close over his cock and suck him in. It was clumsy, but Severus was too close to care; his hips jerked up and he fisted his hands in Potter's mess of hair, holding him still as Severus fucked his mouth. Potter pressed his tongue against the underside of Severus' cock, and Severus thrust once, twice, five times and then came straight down Potter's throat, his whole body shaking.
Severus held Potter's head where it was as Potter choked and gagged and whined around his cock, but when Severus finally let go and collapsed into the mattress, Potter didn't move. He sucked Severus gently, lapping up every drop of come, and when Severus opened his eyes, Potter was sitting there watching him, grinning like a fool and licking his lips. Severus stifled a groan and grabbed Potter's hair, pulling him down and licking his come out of Potter's mouth.
The kiss was slow and long and languid, and Severus felt Potter's cock stirring again before the brat pulled away and sat up. He was sitting strangely, and his eyes were darting about in the way that meant he had something to say but wasn't sure he wanted to come out with it. Severus waited.
Potter swallowed. "Can we... you said, before. At the castle. You said you weren't, er, wholly averse. To me. That you." He reddened and looked away. Severus thought about sparing him, but he wasn't ready to forgive Potter for watching him come, no matter that he'd all but invited the scrutiny. He sat up, propped his back against the headboard, crossed his arms, and arched an eyebrow. Potter looked at his feet. "I was wondering if. And, I mean, you don't have to. If you don't want. But I thought maybe we could. I could. MaybeIcouldtop."
The eyebrow climbed a little higher. "Maybe you could top," he repeated flatly, drawing out the words.
Potter looked at the ceiling and nodded. "Yeah. If you want."
Severus stared at Potter, who shut his eyes and bit his lip and pointed his head in the direction of anything that wasn't Severus. Severus silently reached behind his back and grabbed the lubricant off the bedside table. Then he waited.
It took a while, but Potter eventually worked up the courage to look at him. He opened his eyes and met Severus' own briefly, looked away, and then back at Severus. Severus held out the lube without a word, and Potter's eyes widened almost comically. Severus snorted softly and slid down the bed, rolling on to his stomach and drawing one knee up to his chest. He heard Potter's breath hitch behind him, and then heard the soft pop of the jar opening.
He hoped Potter had been paying attention, as he wasn't overly inclined to talk him through this particular process. He felt Potter's oiled fingers slide down his cleft and circle his entrance hesitantly, and he took a deep breath. Then Potter spooned up behind him as best he could, fingers working between Severus' legs, and licked his ear. "Show me," he said. Severus considered refusing, but then Potter said "please" and Severus' hand found its way to Potter's without much help from Severus.
He used Potter's middle finger to circle his entrance, pushing so slowly he thought the anticipation might well kill them both. He concentrated on his breathing as he worked Potter's finger inside him to the knuckle and then pulled it back out again before pushing it in a little deeper. Potter's breathing was shallow behind him, and when he added his own finger to Potter's and pushed them both inside, Potter breathed "god" against his ear and pressed his body closer. Severus pushed on Potter's finger with his own, brushing it against his prostate, and couldn't contain his gasp as a spark of pleasure tore up his spine.
"Oh," Potter said, and did it again with no encouragement.
The noise Severus made sounded suspiciously like, "nngh," and he pulled his hand away. Potter quickly replaced Severus' finger with another of his own and set about fucking him so slowly Severus was forced to re-evaluate his initial assessment of Potter's sadistic tendencies. "More," he growled, and Potter added a third finger, hitting Severus' prostate more often than not and reducing him to a gasping, sweaty sprawl of limbs.
"Snape? All right?" Potter's tone meant he'd asked more than once. Wonderful. Severus wasn't hard again, not so soon, and he would have been content to be fucked by Potter's fingers until he was. But Potter'd been hard almost as soon as he'd started, and patience wasn't one of the boy's strengths. Severus nodded, and Potter was clambering over his back and pressing his prick inside him before Severus had even finished giving permission.
Severus exhaled slowly and pushed back, felt Potter sinking into his body with an exquisite slowness that was almost painful. His cock wasn't all that long, but it was thick, and stretching to accommodate Potter's girth felt better than it had any right to. Potter was shaking above him, sweat dripping onto the side of Severus' face, and they groaned simultaneously when Potter was finally all the way in.
"Fuck," Potter said, his teeth scraping the skin below Severus' ear. "I'm not going to--" Smirking, Severus clenched around Potter's cock and sucked in his breath at the feeling. "Oh, god. I can't-- Snape."
He managed two jerky, incomplete thrusts before cursing, shuddering, and spilling inside Severus. He relaxed slowly, his body hot and heavy as they lay there. It took a while, but Potter finally stirred, pulling his softening prick out and rolling over onto his back.
"Sorry," he muttered. Severus rolled onto his own back and sat up; Potter had thrown an arm over his eyes, but what Severus could see of his face was red with mortification. Potter had done about as well as Severus had expected him to, and he hadn't thought Potter would have expected anything different. But clearly he had, which put Severus at something of a loss for words for the second time that day -- not a feeling he particularly enjoyed. Potter shifted his arm and peered out timidly from beneath it. Severus raised an eyebrow, and Potter went back into hiding.
"Perhaps next time you ought to have more than one orgasm first," Severus said.
The arm moved slowly. "Next time?"
Severus shot him the most repressive look he could manage. "You're sixteen, Potter. One all-too-brief attempt at sodomy shouldn't send you fleeing to a monastery. But if you're so easily cowed, by all means. Flee."
Potter's eyes flashed. "I wasn't going-- oh." He stopped and grinned. "You are comforting, you know. Just. In your own way."
"Glad to hear it," Severus muttered. He stretched, yawning, and then cursed. His wards were prickling. He slid from the bed and pulled his robes on quickly. "Visitors," Severus said in answer to Potter's unasked question. "Stay."
"Er, Snape? Maybe you shouldn't. I mean, you look. Um. Pretty well-fucked."
Severus had his wand out before Potter finished and quickly made himself respectable. He strode through the front room as the knock on his door sounded, and was dismayed when he pulled it open to see the headmaster standing in the hallway. He was reasonably sure he kept the dismay off his face as he stepped aside. "Headmaster."
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said, stepping through. "I won't be long."
Fortunately, he was true to his word. He stayed long enough for Severus to tell him Potter's whereabouts and for him to tell Severus that Potter's room was ready. The door would appear in Severus' study, opposite the entrance to his own bedroom. He also agreed to announce during supper that Friday Potions classes were canceled, and Severus agreed to attend the Order meeting on Saturday. Dumbledore looked pointedly at the shattered cognac bottle on the floor but didn't ask questions, and Severus didn't volunteer any information. They spoke briefly about Potter's plans, which Severus made up on the spot, and Dumbledore said he would gather up Overseers so Potter could begin remotely viewing lectures. It was possible Severus agreed to an Overseer in his own class, which was ludicrous as the things were distracting and dangerous, but he couldn't be sure. Most of his attention was focused elsewhere -- namely, on the progress of Potter's come as it dripped down his legs.
Although Dumbledore hadn't stayed long, it was apparently more than enough time for Potter to have fallen asleep. Severus stood over the bed and stared down at him, at Harry Potter sleeping soundly in his bed, not some borrowed bed of Black's, naked and sated and trusting and far too young for any of this. Severus dragged a hand through his hair, cursed inwardly, and then went into the other room. He dropped into his battered armchair, and proceeded to drink rather more Oban than was probably wise.
next
Thursday, October 10, 1996
Severus was strangely unwilling to wake Potter up in the morning; he'd got all of two hours of sleep. He went quietly about his morning routine, showering and dressing in near dark, and then he went and made up a bed on the couch, rumpling the sheets and pillow so it looked like someone had slept there. That finished, he went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, carding his fingers through Potter's mess of hair.
Potter yawned, stretched, and curled himself around Severus' waist.
"Potter." Potter whimpered. Severus rolled his eyes and shook the boy's shoulder. Potter finally sat up and blinked sleepily in Severus' direction. He rubbed at his eyes, frowning, and summoned his glasses. "Where are you going?"
"Breakfast, followed by class. I realize it's been a very long time since you actually used your brain, but others make the attempt on a daily basis."
Potter wrinkled his nose. "Yeah. But I thought--"
"I would put my life on hold? Hardly. I shall return when I can. You're welcome to anything you find in the kitchen, so long as it is not flammable."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he looked away. "When are you coming back?"
Severus frowned. "As I said, I will return when I can."
"When will that be?"
Severus reached out and grabbed Potter's chin, pulling his head up and around. "Talk."
Potter tried to jerk his head away, but Severus clenched his fingers harder, holding him in place. Potter glared at him. "I just don't want to be alone anymore."
Severus felt his hand clench and he let go Potter's chin before he broke it. "Were you alone in that room all this time?" he asked, his voice tight.
Potter nodded miserably.
"I was told you had visitors."
"Just him."
"How often?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Every few days."
Severus ground his teeth. "Potter, I cannot stay here today. Too many people know you're here." Potter's shoulders twitched and he looked up quickly, eyes flashing, and got out of bed. He grabbed his jeans off the floor.
"Look, Snape, if you don't want me here, I'll go somewhere else, all right?"
"You've nowhere else to go."
Potter dragged his jeans up his hips. "I'll think of something."
Severus stood up and moved to block the door, folding his arms over his chest. "You're not going anywhere, Potter," he snapped, and braced for the inevitable outburst.
"What do you WANT from me? There was that-- that SCENE in the infirmary, and then you left and I woke up in that PLACE by myself and you didn't come to get me. If you wanted me, you would have come to get me! And then I come here and you've got my stuff all over the place, and you don't even ARGUE when I say I want to stay. But you don't do anything but insult me and tell me you don't want me here and I'm only here because I haven't anywhere else to go and I don't-- I can't-- I can't keep DOING this, Snape. I can't." He stormed to his trunk and started digging around, presumably for a shirt.
Severus watched the dark lines coming to life underneath Potter's skin, visible evidence of his agitation, and he walked slowly to where Potter was kneeling in front of his trunk. "Potter. Stand up."
Potter shot to his feet and whirled, his teeth bared, looking like he wanted to punch Severus in the face, which he probably did. Severus reached out a hand and caught the back of his neck, pulling him slowly forwards into an embrace. Potter struggled briefly but half-heartedly and eventually relaxed, winding his arms around Severus' waist and resting his head against Severus' chest.
"You need to sleep," Severus murmured into Potter's hair. "Let me give you something that will help."
Potter tensed. "You want to knock me out so you can leave. You can't get out of here fast enough, can you?"
Severus let go and glared down at him. "And is it any wonder with you misinterpreting everything I say and acting like a spoilt child?"
"I'm not--"
Severus was suddenly exhausted. "Potter, wait," he said, dragging a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Stop, and listen to me. I imagine you will find this difficult to believe, but I have reasons for the things I do and say, although I concede those reasons are sometimes terrible and often far from obvious. But you must realize that I am not in the habit of inviting people into my home to stay."
Potter gave him a long, strange look and didn't say anything. Severus crossed his arms over his chest.
"You got two hours of sleep. You have been under quite a lot of stress. It disturbs you to be alone. I have other responsibilities I must attend to. There is no one who can take my classes on such short notice. There are people who know you are here who will become suspicious were I not to put in an appearance. Let me give you something to help you sleep. It will solve every one of those problems, and I shall be here when you wake."
Potter crossed his own arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. "Promise."
Severus felt his lips curling into a sneer. "You don't believe a word I say, Potter. Would promises help?"
"Then tell me you want me here."
"Why? So you can doubt me?"
"You'd have to give me something to doubt."
"You seem to be doing fine on your own. Accio," he snapped, focusing on the potion he wanted. He grabbed it out of the air and thrust it at Potter, who took the flask out of his hand automatically. "That's the potion," he snarled. "I'm late for breakfast. Drink or not, stay or go. As you like."
***
Classes that morning were utterly interminable, and Severus was in foul mood. He was angry at himself for having somehow got so entangled with that infuriating, intoxicating child. He was angry with said child. He was furious with Dumbledore. Gryffindor ended the morning seventy-five points lower than they'd started it.
Despite the argument with Potter, he hadn't particularly wanted to go anywhere, but he didn't think he could have missed breakfast without arousing suspicions. He could and did skip lunch, however, going straight to his rooms and half expecting to find them destroyed and Potter gone. But they weren't, and Potter wasn't. He had taken the potion and was sleeping, sprawled diagonally over the entire bed, covers twisted low around his hips, chest moving in a deep, even rhythm. Severus shook his head at the relief he felt, and then spent an entire minute trying to come up with a reason not to fuck the boy awake.
He didn't manage, but as he shrugged off his outer robe, Potter stirred, stretching and yawning. He sat up, ridiculous hair managing to stick out in all directions despite its length, and blinked at Severus. Severus blinked back. "Lunch," he said shortly.
Potter yawned again and offered him a shy grin, but there was more than a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Having me for lunch, sir?"
"Tempting," Severus said dryly, and then remembered why he couldn't. "But first, the Fidelius. I assume you are staying?"
Potter swallowed and nodded, slightly awkward. "I wasn't under it before."
"The charm does require your cooperation, Potter. Would you have given it?"
Potter's lip curled. "Not to anyone else," he said.
Severus' stomach lurched strangely. "On top of that," he said, swallowing, "had the world at large got word that you were hiding in the West Tower of Hogwarts, they would have blinked, shrugged, and moved on with their lives. If they get word you are sharing my quarters, it will be a rather different story." He drew his wand and frowned. "Although if the Ministry gets wind of your condition, you're likely to end up in Azkaban. And... well, frankly, Potter, it's as much for my benefit as yours. There is quite a lot happening right now."
Potter skittered quickly out of the bed. "Okay."
Severus bit back his lecture about simply saying, "okay," and stood across from him. He concentrated on the remnant strings of the charm within himself, trying to follow them back to Potter. As it had been more than a month since he'd lifted the charm, it was slightly more difficult than it had been the last time he'd re-cast it, but he was relieved to find he managed. Casting the Fidelius the first time was complicated and difficult, but after that it was relatively simple; he spared a brief moment to wonder how Potter would react when he realized he'd not cast the full charm on Severus. He brushed the thought aside, murmured the incantation, and made a mental note to have Potter work on his Latin as he mumbled the response.
"Name your Secret Keeper," he said.
Potter didn't hesitate. "Severus Snape."
Severus felt the magic settle into his bones, felt his body absorbing Potter's presence, felt one more tie to Potter solidifying around his chest, felt himself go light-headed and weak in the knees. He solved that problem by kneeling and smirking up at Potter, who looked down in surprise. "Now. You said something about having you for lunch?"
He spent a reasonably tolerable afternoon with the taste of Potter's come in his mouth.
It went downhill when he looked up after his last class to see Granger and Weasley standing in front of his desk, glaring mutinously. "What do you want?"
"Where is he?" Weasley demanded.
Severus glared at Granger. "I thought we discussed this."
"Discussed what?" Weasley looked between them, and Severus just raised an eyebrow. Granger went red. "Hermione? What's he on about?"
"Enough. Both of you, come with me."
He led them back to his quarters, where there was no sign of Potter in the front room or the dining area. Severus flicked his wand at the couch, folding the pillow and blankets of the makeshift bed and moving them to one of the chairs. "Sit," he said curtly. "Touch nothing. In fact, don't so much as look at anything."
He walked to the hidden door to the bedroom, not particularly happy with anyone who wasn't Potter knowing where it was, and stepped through. Potter was in a pair of flannel trousers, curled up in the corner armchair with a big stack of newspapers he must have taken from the study. Severus scowled as Potter looked up at him with a smile.
"Where did you get those?"
"In there," he said, nodding his head towards the study. "They were right on top of one of the chairs. I thought it would be all right. I didn't touch anything else."
Severus walked over and glanced through the doorway. His eyes swept the room quickly, but he didn't see anything amiss. He turned with a grunt. "Your friends are here."
Potter shot to his feet, newspapers quickly forgotten. "Ron and Hermione? Brilliant!" He started towards the door.
"Mr. Potter," he snapped, halting the boy in his tracks. "You're not going anywhere until you're properly dressed and not reeking of sex. On top of that, I need to tell them you're here before going out there would do you any good."
"Oh," he said, blushing.
Severus examined his face. He looked better than he had; his veins were still dark, but less so, and he seemed more himself. "Well?" he said. "Shall I tell them, or throw them out on their ears?" He hoped his tone made it clear which option he preferred.
Potter rolled his eyes. "Oh, tell them. I'll be right out." He crossed the room and draped his arms around Severus' shoulders. "Don't be too mean to them, okay?"
Severus sneered. Potter leaned up and kissed him until Severus gave in and kissed him back. It didn't take nearly so long as it should have.
He let himself back out of the bedroom, and saw that Granger and Weasley were staring at him from the couch. "Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger." Severus said sharply. Their eyes widened in surprise. "Harry Potter is here, in my quarters."
"Er, okay," Weasley said, frowning. "Why'd you tell us that way?"
Severus narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Potter is under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. There is no other way."
"And he let YOU be his Secret-Keeper?" Weasley looked outraged. Severus bared his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. "Professor?"
"Need I remind you I acted in that capacity all summer?"
"Then where is he? Sir?" Weasley was still suspicious, but Granger was watching Severus with a speculative look which he didn't like at all. He curled his lip in her direction, and she looked away quickly.
"He'll be out shortly. He was sleeping."
Weasley's face turned a rather gratifying shade of red. "He was sleeping? Is that-- he's in your bedroom!"
"Well, it's not like Snape needs it," Potter said from the doorway, grinning. "You know he wanders the halls all night handing out detentions."
"Harry!" His friends sprang up from the couch to greet him. Granger caught him in a hug; Weasley beamed but hung back a bit awkwardly.
Severus scowled. Potter's idea of dressing properly was apparently an overly large t-shirt and that same pair of flannel trousers, and his idea of getting cleaned up consisted of a half-hearted scourgify.
"This is all very moving," he snapped. "But I shall be in my study. Do not touch anything." He turned to go back through the bedroom door.
"Just ignore him," he heard Potter mutter under his breath.
He froze and turned slowly. "Mr. Potter," he said dangerously, "what did I tell you about being in my home?"
Potter tensed and frowned. "Er," he said. Severus ground his teeth and took a step forwards. "Oh! No, sir. I didn't mean to ignore what you said. Of course we won't touch anything. I just meant-- we should, they should ignore your tone."
"And which tone is that?"
The brat shot him a falsely sweet smile. "The one where you're a great pillock."
Granger and Weasley inhaled sharply, and Severus felt his face harden. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, excuse us. Mr. Potter, a word."
He grabbed Potter's upper arm and hauled him back into the bedroom, slamming the door and then slamming Potter against it. "Whatever rights you think you've earned by taking my cock up your arse, boy, you'd best reconsider." Potter's eyes sparked. "I will not have you speak to me with such disrespect, not in front of students I still have to teach. Particularly troublemaking Gryffindor students who already despise me and who regularly undertake to make my life a living hell. It undermines my authority, my position, and compromises my safety. And your safety, might I remind you, hinges on mine. You can -- and do -- say whatever you like to me in private, but when there are other people about, I am still your professor, and you will treat me appropriately. Do you understand?"
Potter bared his teeth and threw himself towards Snape, hands fisting in his robes. "You know, sir," Potter spat, "It's not my fault they despise you, is it? If you weren't such a great fucking prat all the time, maybe your life wouldn't be so miserable!"
Severus grabbed Potter's thumbs and twisted backwards, breaking his grip, and then shoved him back against the door. He closed one hand over Potter's throat and squeezed, leaning in to growl in his ear. "We are not going to do this right now, Potter." He squeezed a little harder, felt Potter's thready pulse beneath his hand. "You are going to apologize, you are going to go out there and tell them you apologized, and if you insist, we will continue this discussion at a time in which there are not two insufferable, nosy do-gooders standing two feet away attempting to listen to our every word." Potter's neck fit easily in his hand, and he squeezed once more before letting go and taking two steps back.
"If you cannot hide the extent of our association, Potter, that association will end."
That got Potter's attention. He sucked in oxygen, his face blotchy, and rubbed at his neck. "You wouldn't."
"Awfully sure of your charms, aren't you?" Severus said, his voice cold, and knew he'd pay for it later. That particular insecurity was one he'd never intended to instill in the boy, and yet there he was. Damn the brat. "Try me."
Pain flared briefly in Potter's eyes before the anger took over again, and he bared his teeth. Fortunately, he wasn't willing to press the issue. "Sorry, sir," he spat, and then he jerked the door open, stepped through, and slammed it behind him.
Still fuming, Severus went and sat in the corner armchair to listen to as much of their inane babble as he could stomach. The door was sound-proofed in one direction, allowing him to hear anything that went on in the other room while ensuring no one out there had heard a thing. He crossed his legs and wished for a drink.
"Er, did you hear any of that?" Potter asked.
"No," Granger said. "But we're not blind, Harry. Your neck!"
"Erm, yeah. Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have said that. I apologized."
"You apologized to that greasy git for telling the truth?" Weasley. Severus ground his teeth.
"Harry," Granger said slowly. "I know you were with him all summer, but I don't know if-- I mean, if he's hurting you--"
"He's not," Potter said. "He's... complicated. It's complicated. But we're fine, really."
"But Harry, he shouldn't be... touching you," Granger said. Severus snorted, amused despite himself. "I know he's not as awful as everyone says. I've been taking an independent study, and he's been... well, all right. But--"
"You're both mental," Weasley cut in angrily. "Snape is not all right. He's a greasy bastard and he keeps taking Harry away."
"Ron--"
"I'm sorry, mate, but you were with him all summer. We thought you'd been murdered! And then we find out you weren't, you were just KIDNAPPED, and he brings you back half-dead and he's all you can talk about. You get sent away, and me and Hermione get you out without any help from him, and what do you do? You run straight here. Look at you. And you're defending him. It's sick, Harry."
Through the Fidelius, Severus felt Potter's agitation growing. He sighed and stood. Perhaps Potter hadn't been quite ready for visitors.
"Leave it, Ron," Potter snapped. Definitely angry.
"No! I'm not going--"
"Ron!" Granger cut him off. "Be quiet. I think there's -- Harry, what's wrong?"
Severus pulled the door open and his eyes flew to Potter, standing in front of the fireplace facing the couch, skin crawling and eyes angry. "Visiting hours are over," he said to Granger and Weasley, who were staring at Potter with poorly disguised fear. "Go." They stood up slowly. "Now."
Weasley went a little red around the edges. "What'd you do to him? When can we see him again? Why--"
"RON!" Potter yelled. The air around him crackled. Weasley and Granger paled. Severus moved a few more paces into the room, bringing up the gaes and putting himself between Potter and his idiot friends.
"Calm yourself, Potter," he snapped over his shoulder. He turned to glare at Granger. "Get him out of here."
She nodded and tugged on Weasley's arm. He bared his teeth in a truly pathetic attempt at intimidation, but let her drag him off. Severus strengthened the wards behind them, and then slowly turned to face Potter.
Severus studied Potter carefully; the boy's mood swings were in danger of leveling the castle. Merlin knew why he couldn't listen to Weasley disparaging Severus when he'd been doing it himself not five minutes prior. Something had to be done, and soon, but Potter needed to calm down first. Severus couldn't tell from his face what he wanted, and the Fidelius wasn't giving him much to go on, either; it could only tell him that Potter was upset. He took a step forwards, Potter's wary green eyes watching him closely.
He reached a hand towards Potter's face and carefully removed his glasses, floating them to the nearest table. Potter's eyes fluttered shut, and Severus took another step forwards and began to trace the lines under Potter's skin with his fingers. They were slightly warm to the touch. "Do they still hurt?" he asked quietly. Potter tensed and shook his head. Severus took another step, closing the distance between them, and slid his hand around to the back of Potter's neck. The muscles there were in knots, and Severus dug his fingers into them, rubbing the tension away. Potter dropped his head to Severus' chest with a low groan and Severus' free hand came to rest on the small of Potter's back, holding him close. Potter's arms slowly came up to wrap round Severus' waist, and they stood like that until Severus felt the tension drain out of Potter, out of the air around them.
"Go lie down," he said into Potter's hair. "I'll be there in five minutes."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he stepped back and looked up at Severus, his eyes huge and strangely frightened. Frightened was not a particularly good look on Potter, and Severus leaned in and kissed him softly. "Perhaps four minutes."
Potter's lips twitched and he turned to go back in the bedroom. The door disappeared behind him and Severus stepped through the fireplace into his office, where he charmed the door to sound a knock in his bedroom should anyone need him. He was expected to be in his office until supper in case any students needed assistance, but he could count on one hand the number of students who'd been foolish enough to stop by in the last ten years. He then scribbled a quick note to Dumbledore canceling his classes for Friday; he had no desire to fight with Potter every morning, and it wouldn't kill him to make a concession to the boy's latest neurosis. Nor would it kill Dumbledore, who'd inflicted said neurosis. That done, he stepped back through the fireplace to his quarters and entered the bedroom quietly.
Potter had stripped his clothes off, leaving them piled in the middle of the floor, and was curled up in a ball under the covers. He didn't open his eyes when Severus walked in, and Severus shucked his own clothes and slid into the bed, curling his body around Potter's smaller frame. He was shivering despite it being fairly warm in the bedroom, and he burrowed closer to Severus, breathing deeply. Severus felt his arms tighten, and he buried his nose in Potter's hair.
"I don't imagine you want to discuss this, Potter, but it's past time."
Potter's body twitched slightly. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I know." He paused and sighed. "What's wrong with me? Why am I... I mean, I know everyone says teenagers are-- are all crazy. But I feel like I could explode any second. I get so angry over stupid stuff. I didn't last five minutes with Ron and Hermione, and they're my best friends. This thing inside me is... it wants things. I don't understand."
"Do you remember what I said to you in the infirmary?"
"You said it was everything dark, yeah. And you told Dumbledore -- and that's a good trick with the door, by the way -- you told Dumbledore that there was no way to get rid of it. I have to accept it and control it. But I feel like... like it's controlling me."
Severus chose his words carefully. "In a way, it is. It's not sentient; you've not been possessed. You needn't worry about that. But there is a presence inside you, a sort of primal force. It has... urges. As you said, things it wants. And the more you fight it, the more it's going to want them, and the less control you shall have."
"I don't... that doesn't make sense."
"You have to give it what it wants, Potter. It's going to be difficult at first, deciphering what the urges mean and how much or how little it will take to satisfy them. But you need to feed its hunger so it quiets down. Once it does that, you'll be able to exert more and more control over it. Because you're right -- at this moment, it's fighting you. I believe that's what the lines are, a physical manifestation of the struggle."
"Er. But won't feeding it just make it want more? That's the part that doesn't make sense."
"Yes and no," Severus said, trailing a hand down Potter's side with a slight smirk. "Imagine it's a randy teenager. You slake its lust, it falls asleep. It's likely to wake up wanting more, yes, but you have other things to do. While it's asleep, you take the opportunity to restrain it, tie it up, exert a little more control. Obviously it won't last forever, but each time it happens, you'll regain a bit more control, a bit more of yourself."
Potter was quiet, his breathing deep and even, and Severus hoped he was thinking rather than sleeping. Finally he said, in slightly amused tones, "I'd better not wake up tied to the bed." He squirmed, wiggling his backside against Severus, whose cock was at half-mast already.
"Don't distract me, Potter," he snapped half-heartedly, nipping Potter's earlobe.
Potter snorted and turned to lay on his back and look up at Severus, who propped himself up on one elbow. "How will I know what it wants?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Fancy being buggered on broken glass?"
"Oh." Severus splayed his hand over Potter's stomach, watched the muscles quiver under his touch. "I don't want... you'll have to do it, won't you? Hurt me?" he said, his voice small.
"If that's what you think it wants. But I--" He sighed. "I doubt it wants you dancing on the end of a Cruciatus, Potter. I have hurt you before."
"Oh," he said, frowning in thought. "You mean, bites and stuff? Bruises?"
Severus swallowed. "Probably a bit more extensive than that, but as I said. Nothing major. Nothing agonizing. Nothing permanent." He swallowed again, wondering if Potter had noticed his cock rising. Time to move on. "What else does it want? Do you want?"
Potter looked away and then curled back on his side, pressing his back to Severus. Severus sighed and lay down next to him, curling one arm around his waist and sliding the other under his head. Potter reached out to stroke his forearm, and then spoke almost too quietly for Severus to hear him. "Sometimes I want to hurt you," he said.
Severus shut his eyes against the wave of -- something -- that crashed over him, driving all the air from his lungs and making his stomach lurch strangely. His arm tightened around Potter and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "All right," he said softly. Madness.
Potter went rigid in his arms and turned back over, looking at him incredulously. "What? All right, what?"
Severus snorted and propped himself back up on one elbow. He reached for calm. "Potter, I'm hardly suggesting you hit me in the head with a brick."
Potter's suspicion seemed to increase. "And you'll just... let me? You're just going to take it?"
Severus kept his face carefully blank as he thought about it. It had been a long time. "That is the idea, yes." He paused, wondering how much he should say. He was so hard it hurt. "Although I am a bit out of practice with that end of things."
He watched as Potter tried to make sense of that. "I'm not sure I know exactly what we're talking about," he said. He seemed upset.
Severus pushed the fringe off his forehead. "I know," he said. "I'll show you."
Potter bit his bottom lip. "What if I can't?"
"Hurt me?" Severus snorted softly. "I very much doubt that will be a problem. But if you cannot, then you cannot. The world will not end."
Potter nodded, thinking it over, still chewing on his bottom lip. "What if it-- what if it wants me to kill someone? Would it want that?"
Severus sighed. The boy was going to give himself an ulcer. "As you are a less than competent murderer, Potter, I'm hardly concerned. But you're more than welcome to kill me again if you like. It worked so well last time."
Potter made a strange face, somewhere between a flinch and a wry smile, and stared fixedly at Severus' chin. "I-- you-- but you don't-- bugger. Never mind."
"You don't honestly believe you're going to get away with that?"
"I was hoping," Potter muttered, his eyes briefly meeting Severus' and darting away again. "It's stupid," he said.
Severus didn't make the obvious remark, but he couldn't quite keep his eyebrow still. Potter rolled his eyes. "All right, fine," he said, still looking at Severus' chin. "I didn't mean to get all weird this morning, about you leaving. But I just-- I can't tell. I never know what to believe. I don't think you'd let me stay if you didn't want me here, and I don't think you'd have sex with me if you didn't like it. But you're such a prat about everything all the time that I forget about all the things you don't say. And I think it's what you don't say that counts."
Severus listened expressionlessly and wished very much he'd never asked. Now he was obliged to come up with some sort of answer. Potter's eyes were darting to his nervously and then looking away again, and it was making Severus want to throttle him. "I see," he said, swallowing. "Your points, amazingly enough, are not wholly invalid. I've had more people stampeding through my rooms in the last two days on your account than I've allowed in the last ten years. But be that as it may, Potter, you do realize I mean it when I say you've nowhere else to go? Should the public get wind of your condition, they'd panic. The Ministry would attempt to capture you and throw you in Azkaban, and you'd have to go quietly or kill everyone they sent."
Potter stiffened and shook his head a little frantically. "I couldn't--"
Severus grabbed his chin and forced Potter to meet his eyes. "You could," he said matter-of-factly. "If you wanted to."
"I don't," he said, his jaw set stubbornly.
"Then don't," Severus returned mildly. He let go of Potter's chin and the green gaze turned deep and searching. Potter reached up hesitantly to touch him, and Severus shut his eyes and breathed deeply, not moving as light fingertips traced his cheekbones, his lips, his eyelids.
"Everyone's scared of me," Potter said quietly, sounding rather scared of himself. "But you're not."
"No," he said, opening his eyes. Abjectly terrified was a much more precise term. But his own fears had nothing to do with Potter killing everyone in the Ministry's employ, and were thusly ignored as irrelevant to the topic.
"I-- it's not just the gaes."
Potter hadn't voiced it as a question, but Severus answered it anyway. "No," he said again.
"How am I supposed to live like this?" A harsh bark of somewhat hysterical laughter escaped his throat. "I hate the only person I can stand to be with."
Severus felt his mouth curl into a sneer, an automatic response when he didn't know what else to say. It was painfully clear that Potter didn't hate him, for all he -- and Severus -- wished he did; it would have made things simpler. It was clear the boy wanted some sort of reassurance, but comfort was not Severus' forte and he was loath to spend the weekend catering to Potter's insecurities. On the other hand, provoking the brat currently ran the risk of leveling Hogwarts. And gaes or no, Severus very much doubted he would survive being crushed by falling rock. The middle ground, then.
"You're not supposed to live like this," he said. "You're to master it and move on, or die in the attempt."
"That's very comforting, thanks."
Severus raised an eyebrow and pitched his voice lower. "There, there, Harry," he said, his voice far too dry to pull it off properly. "Everything will be all right."
Potter's eyes widened and a grin flickered across his face. "That's even less comforting."
"Indeed," he said. "I can offer you only one sort of comfort, Potter. If you're after vague reassurances and empty platitudes, you'd best look elsewhere."
Potter thought about it. "I think I've had enough of those. I'd just as soon hear the truth."
Severus raised his eyebrows. "The voice sounds like Potter's, and yet it speaks sense."
Grinning impishly, Potter wiggled closer, bringing his hip snug against Severus' erection. "You said something about comfort?"
"So I did," Severus said, and leaned down to kiss the grin off the brat's face. They barely paused to breathe as he rolled Potter underneath him and settled one leg between Potter's own, allowing them to thrust against one another. He'd been ready before Potter was, but Potter was somewhat lacking in stamina and it wasn't long before he was whimpering into Severus' mouth and clawing at his back, begging with his body. Severus pulled up slightly and reached for Potter's cock, stroking him quickly to orgasm as Potter gasped into his mouth.
He pulled away a bit more and grabbed one of Potter's hands, using it to gather up as much of Potter's come as he could. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling Potter with him, and arched into the pillow with a gasp as he curled Potter's slick hand over his cock. Potter's hot mouth latched onto his neck, and he inhaled sharply, thrusting into Potter's hand. He showed Potter how to stroke him: far more slowly than Potter liked to be stroked, and with a grip so hard it bordered on pain. Potter turned out to be a quick study, and it wasn't long before Severus' hand dropped to the sheets and left Potter to his own devices.
He frowned slightly when Potter's mouth went away, and he opened his eyes to see the boy sitting up and watching him intently. He shut his eyes quickly; it was one thing to watch Potter watching him while they were both mindless with lust. It was another thing entirely when it was just Severus. He felt Potter's other hand curl hesitantly around his balls, and it was with no small measure of relief that Severus welcomed that distraction. He covered Potter's hand with his own and tried not to curse aloud as he showed Potter what he liked, and Potter stroked up with one hand and pulled down with the other and it was really very good.
He let go of Potter and clutched at the sheets by his legs, thrusting up into Potter's hands, warm and rough and oh, fuck, the brat knew exactly what he was about and Severus couldn't be bothered to wonder when that had happened. He was just glad it had. He was close, so close, and he was about to groan Potter's name when he felt that mouth close over his cock and suck him in. It was clumsy, but Severus was too close to care; his hips jerked up and he fisted his hands in Potter's mess of hair, holding him still as Severus fucked his mouth. Potter pressed his tongue against the underside of Severus' cock, and Severus thrust once, twice, five times and then came straight down Potter's throat, his whole body shaking.
Severus held Potter's head where it was as Potter choked and gagged and whined around his cock, but when Severus finally let go and collapsed into the mattress, Potter didn't move. He sucked Severus gently, lapping up every drop of come, and when Severus opened his eyes, Potter was sitting there watching him, grinning like a fool and licking his lips. Severus stifled a groan and grabbed Potter's hair, pulling him down and licking his come out of Potter's mouth.
The kiss was slow and long and languid, and Severus felt Potter's cock stirring again before the brat pulled away and sat up. He was sitting strangely, and his eyes were darting about in the way that meant he had something to say but wasn't sure he wanted to come out with it. Severus waited.
Potter swallowed. "Can we... you said, before. At the castle. You said you weren't, er, wholly averse. To me. That you." He reddened and looked away. Severus thought about sparing him, but he wasn't ready to forgive Potter for watching him come, no matter that he'd all but invited the scrutiny. He sat up, propped his back against the headboard, crossed his arms, and arched an eyebrow. Potter looked at his feet. "I was wondering if. And, I mean, you don't have to. If you don't want. But I thought maybe we could. I could. MaybeIcouldtop."
The eyebrow climbed a little higher. "Maybe you could top," he repeated flatly, drawing out the words.
Potter looked at the ceiling and nodded. "Yeah. If you want."
Severus stared at Potter, who shut his eyes and bit his lip and pointed his head in the direction of anything that wasn't Severus. Severus silently reached behind his back and grabbed the lubricant off the bedside table. Then he waited.
It took a while, but Potter eventually worked up the courage to look at him. He opened his eyes and met Severus' own briefly, looked away, and then back at Severus. Severus held out the lube without a word, and Potter's eyes widened almost comically. Severus snorted softly and slid down the bed, rolling on to his stomach and drawing one knee up to his chest. He heard Potter's breath hitch behind him, and then heard the soft pop of the jar opening.
He hoped Potter had been paying attention, as he wasn't overly inclined to talk him through this particular process. He felt Potter's oiled fingers slide down his cleft and circle his entrance hesitantly, and he took a deep breath. Then Potter spooned up behind him as best he could, fingers working between Severus' legs, and licked his ear. "Show me," he said. Severus considered refusing, but then Potter said "please" and Severus' hand found its way to Potter's without much help from Severus.
He used Potter's middle finger to circle his entrance, pushing so slowly he thought the anticipation might well kill them both. He concentrated on his breathing as he worked Potter's finger inside him to the knuckle and then pulled it back out again before pushing it in a little deeper. Potter's breathing was shallow behind him, and when he added his own finger to Potter's and pushed them both inside, Potter breathed "god" against his ear and pressed his body closer. Severus pushed on Potter's finger with his own, brushing it against his prostate, and couldn't contain his gasp as a spark of pleasure tore up his spine.
"Oh," Potter said, and did it again with no encouragement.
The noise Severus made sounded suspiciously like, "nngh," and he pulled his hand away. Potter quickly replaced Severus' finger with another of his own and set about fucking him so slowly Severus was forced to re-evaluate his initial assessment of Potter's sadistic tendencies. "More," he growled, and Potter added a third finger, hitting Severus' prostate more often than not and reducing him to a gasping, sweaty sprawl of limbs.
"Snape? All right?" Potter's tone meant he'd asked more than once. Wonderful. Severus wasn't hard again, not so soon, and he would have been content to be fucked by Potter's fingers until he was. But Potter'd been hard almost as soon as he'd started, and patience wasn't one of the boy's strengths. Severus nodded, and Potter was clambering over his back and pressing his prick inside him before Severus had even finished giving permission.
Severus exhaled slowly and pushed back, felt Potter sinking into his body with an exquisite slowness that was almost painful. His cock wasn't all that long, but it was thick, and stretching to accommodate Potter's girth felt better than it had any right to. Potter was shaking above him, sweat dripping onto the side of Severus' face, and they groaned simultaneously when Potter was finally all the way in.
"Fuck," Potter said, his teeth scraping the skin below Severus' ear. "I'm not going to--" Smirking, Severus clenched around Potter's cock and sucked in his breath at the feeling. "Oh, god. I can't-- Snape."
He managed two jerky, incomplete thrusts before cursing, shuddering, and spilling inside Severus. He relaxed slowly, his body hot and heavy as they lay there. It took a while, but Potter finally stirred, pulling his softening prick out and rolling over onto his back.
"Sorry," he muttered. Severus rolled onto his own back and sat up; Potter had thrown an arm over his eyes, but what Severus could see of his face was red with mortification. Potter had done about as well as Severus had expected him to, and he hadn't thought Potter would have expected anything different. But clearly he had, which put Severus at something of a loss for words for the second time that day -- not a feeling he particularly enjoyed. Potter shifted his arm and peered out timidly from beneath it. Severus raised an eyebrow, and Potter went back into hiding.
"Perhaps next time you ought to have more than one orgasm first," Severus said.
The arm moved slowly. "Next time?"
Severus shot him the most repressive look he could manage. "You're sixteen, Potter. One all-too-brief attempt at sodomy shouldn't send you fleeing to a monastery. But if you're so easily cowed, by all means. Flee."
Potter's eyes flashed. "I wasn't going-- oh." He stopped and grinned. "You are comforting, you know. Just. In your own way."
"Glad to hear it," Severus muttered. He stretched, yawning, and then cursed. His wards were prickling. He slid from the bed and pulled his robes on quickly. "Visitors," Severus said in answer to Potter's unasked question. "Stay."
"Er, Snape? Maybe you shouldn't. I mean, you look. Um. Pretty well-fucked."
Severus had his wand out before Potter finished and quickly made himself respectable. He strode through the front room as the knock on his door sounded, and was dismayed when he pulled it open to see the headmaster standing in the hallway. He was reasonably sure he kept the dismay off his face as he stepped aside. "Headmaster."
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said, stepping through. "I won't be long."
Fortunately, he was true to his word. He stayed long enough for Severus to tell him Potter's whereabouts and for him to tell Severus that Potter's room was ready. The door would appear in Severus' study, opposite the entrance to his own bedroom. He also agreed to announce during supper that Friday Potions classes were canceled, and Severus agreed to attend the Order meeting on Saturday. Dumbledore looked pointedly at the shattered cognac bottle on the floor but didn't ask questions, and Severus didn't volunteer any information. They spoke briefly about Potter's plans, which Severus made up on the spot, and Dumbledore said he would gather up Overseers so Potter could begin remotely viewing lectures. It was possible Severus agreed to an Overseer in his own class, which was ludicrous as the things were distracting and dangerous, but he couldn't be sure. Most of his attention was focused elsewhere -- namely, on the progress of Potter's come as it dripped down his legs.
Although Dumbledore hadn't stayed long, it was apparently more than enough time for Potter to have fallen asleep. Severus stood over the bed and stared down at him, at Harry Potter sleeping soundly in his bed, not some borrowed bed of Black's, naked and sated and trusting and far too young for any of this. Severus dragged a hand through his hair, cursed inwardly, and then went into the other room. He dropped into his battered armchair, and proceeded to drink rather more Oban than was probably wise.
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