New Ficlet: Conflict Resolution
Title: Conflict Resolution
Author: alliekatgal
Pairing: HP/SS
Rating: Adult
Beta: xikum
Disclaimer: All belongs to JKR.
Summary: The Ministry of Magic forces Harry and Severus to attend anger management classes, with explosive results.
“Gentlemen, I believe you all know why you are here. This is the Ministry of Magic’s Anger Management course, which each one of you has been ordered to attend. Some of you will only be here for a few classes, whilst others of you will be here for significantly longer.” As she spoke, the counselor surveyed the class, looking longer at a few of the participants.
Harry could feel her eyes boring into him as she talked. Her voice was high-pitched and similar enough to Umbridge’s to raise the hair on the nape of his neck. At least she didn’t titter. Glancing around, he could tell that her unctuous tone rankled the others as well. The Ministry might have forced him to attend these classes, but they couldn’t convince him that this would actually do any good. The Ministry required that, due to their ‘volatile’ natures, they surrender their wands at the beginning of the class, to be returned as the end of each session. His only consolation was that at least there were others here who were no doubt as miserable and irritated as he felt.
It was not to be believed that he had survived the war and was now reduced to this, by his own government, which existed in good part due to his efforts. He was one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and yet here he was, giving in to asinine demands that he learn to ‘control himself’. It they only knew. Well, better that they didn’t, really.
Actually, that was exactly why he was here. He looked around the room, taking note of each occupant in their small circle. He had received an order masquerading as an invitation to attend a workshop. Apparently there were quite a number of these groups meeting, supposedly meant to induce a feeling of camaraderie and intimacy. Hah. He knew that the real reason he and several other powerful wizards were currently here was because the Ministry didn’t trust them, and he had to admit - only to himself - they had reason not to.
It was true they had abused their power. Fortunately for each of them, the Ministry was only aware of a fraction of the incidents that had occurred, primarily those that had taken place in public venues. Perhaps they had become so conditioned to fighting, to throwing hexes reflexively, that none of them would ever be able to function normally.
There had been a shift in people’s magical power after Voldemort had been defeated. All the wizards in the room had discovered that their magic was stronger and easier to access. Others had, unfortunately, had their magical cores fractured, unable to contain the extra power. Neville seemed quite content to work with his plants without magic, while Ron had turned his back on most of the wizarding world, becoming bitter and reclusive.
The Ministry didn’t understand that it wasn’t completely anger that drove them to provoke each other. It was sometimes merely an excess of energy, other times a need to regain just a bit more control, or to seem to connect with a piece of the past. Most of it Harry was more than willing to let go, but there was too much water under the bridge for the Ministry to believe that they could all get along just because they were going to some fucking class.
The tiny woman spoke while perched on a chair, seated facing them, between them and the exit, her back to the door.
“My name is Edith Allbright, and I will be facilitating our meetings. I am not an instructor, nor am I a Healer. I will direct our discussions, but I am not in a position to tell you how you should be feeling or acting. You each have within yourselves the strength and the power to control your emotions and your magic, but every person present needs to reconnect with their spiritual selves, to purge themselves of the anger that is driving each one of you.”
Harry turned his head ever so slightly to observe Severus Snape. The man was, as usual, dressed all in black, long strands of hair obscuring part of his face. His mouth was set in a small, disdainful sneer, his arms crossed defensively in front of himself. Unapproachable and untouchable as always.
“I would like each of you to introduce yourselves and share an incident which precipitated your presence here.”
She turned to the man on her left. “You may begin, and we shall go around the circle clockwise.”
“Blaise Zabini. I hexed Dean Thomas in the lobby of Gringotts.”
Mrs. Allbright nodded, and looked at the next person.
“Severus Snape. I sent a package to the editor of The Prophet which, when opened, released a noxious gas. When inhaled, the gas caused anyone nearby to vomit.” His shoulders gave a careless shrug. “It caused no lasting damage.”
Harry snorted as remembered the pictures from that incident. Snape failed to mention that the witches and wizards in question vomited purple slime, which proved impossible to remove from the flooring, leading to the newspaper offices being closed for several days to allow time for all the flooring to be replaced.
“Zachariah Smith. I started a duel with Draco Malfoy at Madam Malkin’s shop.”
“Harry Potter. I turned several annoying people into mice at a dinner for the Minister.”
Snape chuckled softly as he recalled Arthur Weasley hastily calling out, “Accio mice! Accio mice!” Arthur had been unprepared for the two dozen small creatures that had come zooming into his open hands. There had been chaos as they tried to control the mice and revert the spelled witches and wizards back to their human forms. The spell had been remarkably resistant to counters; the incident had taken some time to resolve.
Harry glared at Snape.
“It caused no lasting damage.” Snape’s eyes narrowed as he heard Harry repeating his own words.
“Of course not, because no one would be traumatized by being turned into a rodent by the Great Harry Potter.”
Harry stood hastily, his chair falling over behind him.
“Don’t you think those people at The Prophet were traumatized by puking up slime? Especially once they knew you were behind it? They probably expected to die from it.”
Snape’s robes billowed as he stood abruptly, tossing his hair back. “I am a Potions Master, at the top of my profession. I knew exactly what the effects of the gas would be. I had no intention of killing them. Had I, not only would they be dead, but no one would have ever traced the source.”
“No, of course not. Because you’re so sweet and lovable and would never really hurt anyone - how would anyone suspect you?!”
Snape’s fingers were twitching. Even without his wand, he could blast the wretched little shit where he stood, consequences be damned.
Harry didn’t wait. He simply pointed his finger at Snape and yelled, “Repellio!”
Snape cast a hasty Protego, causing the spell to ricochet away from him and blast Smith backwards and onto the floor.
Snape threw a Consussive curse, which Harry deflected, throwing Zabini against the wall, where he slid down to the floor, limp and unconscious.
Mrs. Allbright stood up, flapping her hands and saying, “Gentlemen. Gentlemen. You must calm down.”
She fell in a heap as both Harry and Severus hit her with a Stupefy spell.
Harry glared at Severus.
“Are you happy now? We’ve managed to hex every other person in this room.”
“I’ll be happy when I have you under me, screaming for mercy.”
Harry’s cheeks grew red as his mind conjured up a scene which he was sure was far removed from what Snape had in mind.
Snape, never one to miss such unsubtle cues, was on Harry in an instant. His mouth was hot and hungry, devouring Harry even as his hands grabbed Harry’s arse, melding the younger wizard’s body to his own.
Harry grabbed hold of Snape’s hair, trying to raise his hips closer to the taller man’s groin. He wanted to devour Snape, consume him, but at the same time he wanted to merge into the man’s heat.
His mouth was released, leading to an attack on his neck, bites and suckles which no doubt would leave blatant marks for days to come.
His voice was husky with need as he pleaded, “Get us out of here.”
Holding Harry close, Snape Apparated them out of the Ministry with a deafening crack. The only thing Harry noticed upon their arrival to their destination was the enormous bed, linens conveniently strewn to one side.
Two sets of hands shredded fabric and popped buttons in their haste to expose overheated flesh.
Snape ended up on top as they fell onto the bed, hot, angry kisses being exchanged as hands skimmed over each other.
“You said you wanted me screaming under you. Get on with it.”
Warm breath ghosted over his ear. “Have no doubt that it will happen. I’ll have you begging, Potter.”
“Promises, promises.”
Snape curled his hand into Harry’s hair and gave it a quick, hard tug. “I am a man of my word. I will indeed deliver exactly what I say I will.”
He silenced Harry with a demanding kiss, hands buried in Harry’s hair, his weight pinning Harry down onto the bed. Snape appeared to be thin, but in reality he was pure whipcord muscle, lean and powerful, his body a solid, comforting presence.
Severus didn’t spend time exploring Harry’s body. There would be time for that later, once this frantic need to possess had passed. He released Harry’s mouth only long enough to call for the jar of viscous salve. Harry moaned as slick fingers invaded him, probing and twisting and sending sparks through him. He spread his legs wider, hips canting up as he tried to get more friction across his cock.
Another finger had him gasping, eyes watering until the burn began to fade, any objection silenced by sudden jolts of sensation. Long fingers grasped his thigh, pulling it up, coaxing it to wrap around Snape’s lean flank. There was no gentle entry, no hesitant breaching. Snape plunged into Harry in one fierce thrust, seating himself fully.
He didn’t murmur comforting words, only held himself still for a moment, just until Harry’s death grip on his arms loosened a bit. Then he was slamming into the heat beneath him, taking and taking and taking, barely hearing Harry’s hoarse screams of pleasure. He hardly noticed when Harry’s teeth sank into his arm, but a groan was forced out of him as Harry came, his muscles squeezing Snape until he was coming, unaware that his mouth was even moving, let alone chanting, “Oh fuck, Harry. Fuck, yes. Fuck. Harry!”
Snape had just enough energy to roll onto his side and pull the younger wizard against him before giving in to the lethargy pulling his eyelids shut.
Harry woke up with his face squashed against Severus’ chest. It took a moment to register that long fingers were stroking his arse, the tips just dipping into the warm crease. His cock twitched as those fingers traveled down until they were teasing his bollocks, causing him to try to inch his way up Severus’ chest, hoping to reposition himself to feel more of those fingers.
“Eager for more, are we?”
Harry’s fingers stroked over the long, hard length of Severus’ erection. “You know I am. I’ve thought of this for years. I may have become a decent Occlumens as far as other people are concerned, but I was never able to hold out against you.”
“I thought those were simply childish fantasies, spurred on by the amount of time we spent together. You made no attempts to pursue anything once you left school. You never sought me out when you came back to see Minerva.”
“I assumed that since you never mentioned what you saw, that you had no interest. You’ve never given me the smallest hint that you’d be open to any advances. All you’ve done is glare at me the few times I’ve seen you lately.”
Severus used his knees to leverage Harry’s legs open.
“I found you attractive, but you were too young before, with too much being asked of you for me to have added my own demands. Now, however, seems to be the perfect time.”
“You realize we may both end up in Azkaban? Damn, they still have our wands at the Ministry.”
Severus laughed at that. “No doubt the entire Wizarding World now knows we have no need of them. It may, however, be prudent to send a letter of apology to Madame Allbright, and leave for an extended vacation.”
Harry rubbed himself against Severus, needing more friction. “Together, yeah?”
“Yes, together. Who knows what kind of trouble you would find on your own?”
Author: alliekatgal
Pairing: HP/SS
Rating: Adult
Beta: xikum
Disclaimer: All belongs to JKR.
Summary: The Ministry of Magic forces Harry and Severus to attend anger management classes, with explosive results.
“Gentlemen, I believe you all know why you are here. This is the Ministry of Magic’s Anger Management course, which each one of you has been ordered to attend. Some of you will only be here for a few classes, whilst others of you will be here for significantly longer.” As she spoke, the counselor surveyed the class, looking longer at a few of the participants.
Harry could feel her eyes boring into him as she talked. Her voice was high-pitched and similar enough to Umbridge’s to raise the hair on the nape of his neck. At least she didn’t titter. Glancing around, he could tell that her unctuous tone rankled the others as well. The Ministry might have forced him to attend these classes, but they couldn’t convince him that this would actually do any good. The Ministry required that, due to their ‘volatile’ natures, they surrender their wands at the beginning of the class, to be returned as the end of each session. His only consolation was that at least there were others here who were no doubt as miserable and irritated as he felt.
It was not to be believed that he had survived the war and was now reduced to this, by his own government, which existed in good part due to his efforts. He was one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and yet here he was, giving in to asinine demands that he learn to ‘control himself’. It they only knew. Well, better that they didn’t, really.
Actually, that was exactly why he was here. He looked around the room, taking note of each occupant in their small circle. He had received an order masquerading as an invitation to attend a workshop. Apparently there were quite a number of these groups meeting, supposedly meant to induce a feeling of camaraderie and intimacy. Hah. He knew that the real reason he and several other powerful wizards were currently here was because the Ministry didn’t trust them, and he had to admit - only to himself - they had reason not to.
It was true they had abused their power. Fortunately for each of them, the Ministry was only aware of a fraction of the incidents that had occurred, primarily those that had taken place in public venues. Perhaps they had become so conditioned to fighting, to throwing hexes reflexively, that none of them would ever be able to function normally.
There had been a shift in people’s magical power after Voldemort had been defeated. All the wizards in the room had discovered that their magic was stronger and easier to access. Others had, unfortunately, had their magical cores fractured, unable to contain the extra power. Neville seemed quite content to work with his plants without magic, while Ron had turned his back on most of the wizarding world, becoming bitter and reclusive.
The Ministry didn’t understand that it wasn’t completely anger that drove them to provoke each other. It was sometimes merely an excess of energy, other times a need to regain just a bit more control, or to seem to connect with a piece of the past. Most of it Harry was more than willing to let go, but there was too much water under the bridge for the Ministry to believe that they could all get along just because they were going to some fucking class.
The tiny woman spoke while perched on a chair, seated facing them, between them and the exit, her back to the door.
“My name is Edith Allbright, and I will be facilitating our meetings. I am not an instructor, nor am I a Healer. I will direct our discussions, but I am not in a position to tell you how you should be feeling or acting. You each have within yourselves the strength and the power to control your emotions and your magic, but every person present needs to reconnect with their spiritual selves, to purge themselves of the anger that is driving each one of you.”
Harry turned his head ever so slightly to observe Severus Snape. The man was, as usual, dressed all in black, long strands of hair obscuring part of his face. His mouth was set in a small, disdainful sneer, his arms crossed defensively in front of himself. Unapproachable and untouchable as always.
“I would like each of you to introduce yourselves and share an incident which precipitated your presence here.”
She turned to the man on her left. “You may begin, and we shall go around the circle clockwise.”
“Blaise Zabini. I hexed Dean Thomas in the lobby of Gringotts.”
Mrs. Allbright nodded, and looked at the next person.
“Severus Snape. I sent a package to the editor of The Prophet which, when opened, released a noxious gas. When inhaled, the gas caused anyone nearby to vomit.” His shoulders gave a careless shrug. “It caused no lasting damage.”
Harry snorted as remembered the pictures from that incident. Snape failed to mention that the witches and wizards in question vomited purple slime, which proved impossible to remove from the flooring, leading to the newspaper offices being closed for several days to allow time for all the flooring to be replaced.
“Zachariah Smith. I started a duel with Draco Malfoy at Madam Malkin’s shop.”
“Harry Potter. I turned several annoying people into mice at a dinner for the Minister.”
Snape chuckled softly as he recalled Arthur Weasley hastily calling out, “Accio mice! Accio mice!” Arthur had been unprepared for the two dozen small creatures that had come zooming into his open hands. There had been chaos as they tried to control the mice and revert the spelled witches and wizards back to their human forms. The spell had been remarkably resistant to counters; the incident had taken some time to resolve.
Harry glared at Snape.
“It caused no lasting damage.” Snape’s eyes narrowed as he heard Harry repeating his own words.
“Of course not, because no one would be traumatized by being turned into a rodent by the Great Harry Potter.”
Harry stood hastily, his chair falling over behind him.
“Don’t you think those people at The Prophet were traumatized by puking up slime? Especially once they knew you were behind it? They probably expected to die from it.”
Snape’s robes billowed as he stood abruptly, tossing his hair back. “I am a Potions Master, at the top of my profession. I knew exactly what the effects of the gas would be. I had no intention of killing them. Had I, not only would they be dead, but no one would have ever traced the source.”
“No, of course not. Because you’re so sweet and lovable and would never really hurt anyone - how would anyone suspect you?!”
Snape’s fingers were twitching. Even without his wand, he could blast the wretched little shit where he stood, consequences be damned.
Harry didn’t wait. He simply pointed his finger at Snape and yelled, “Repellio!”
Snape cast a hasty Protego, causing the spell to ricochet away from him and blast Smith backwards and onto the floor.
Snape threw a Consussive curse, which Harry deflected, throwing Zabini against the wall, where he slid down to the floor, limp and unconscious.
Mrs. Allbright stood up, flapping her hands and saying, “Gentlemen. Gentlemen. You must calm down.”
She fell in a heap as both Harry and Severus hit her with a Stupefy spell.
Harry glared at Severus.
“Are you happy now? We’ve managed to hex every other person in this room.”
“I’ll be happy when I have you under me, screaming for mercy.”
Harry’s cheeks grew red as his mind conjured up a scene which he was sure was far removed from what Snape had in mind.
Snape, never one to miss such unsubtle cues, was on Harry in an instant. His mouth was hot and hungry, devouring Harry even as his hands grabbed Harry’s arse, melding the younger wizard’s body to his own.
Harry grabbed hold of Snape’s hair, trying to raise his hips closer to the taller man’s groin. He wanted to devour Snape, consume him, but at the same time he wanted to merge into the man’s heat.
His mouth was released, leading to an attack on his neck, bites and suckles which no doubt would leave blatant marks for days to come.
His voice was husky with need as he pleaded, “Get us out of here.”
Holding Harry close, Snape Apparated them out of the Ministry with a deafening crack. The only thing Harry noticed upon their arrival to their destination was the enormous bed, linens conveniently strewn to one side.
Two sets of hands shredded fabric and popped buttons in their haste to expose overheated flesh.
Snape ended up on top as they fell onto the bed, hot, angry kisses being exchanged as hands skimmed over each other.
“You said you wanted me screaming under you. Get on with it.”
Warm breath ghosted over his ear. “Have no doubt that it will happen. I’ll have you begging, Potter.”
“Promises, promises.”
Snape curled his hand into Harry’s hair and gave it a quick, hard tug. “I am a man of my word. I will indeed deliver exactly what I say I will.”
He silenced Harry with a demanding kiss, hands buried in Harry’s hair, his weight pinning Harry down onto the bed. Snape appeared to be thin, but in reality he was pure whipcord muscle, lean and powerful, his body a solid, comforting presence.
Severus didn’t spend time exploring Harry’s body. There would be time for that later, once this frantic need to possess had passed. He released Harry’s mouth only long enough to call for the jar of viscous salve. Harry moaned as slick fingers invaded him, probing and twisting and sending sparks through him. He spread his legs wider, hips canting up as he tried to get more friction across his cock.
Another finger had him gasping, eyes watering until the burn began to fade, any objection silenced by sudden jolts of sensation. Long fingers grasped his thigh, pulling it up, coaxing it to wrap around Snape’s lean flank. There was no gentle entry, no hesitant breaching. Snape plunged into Harry in one fierce thrust, seating himself fully.
He didn’t murmur comforting words, only held himself still for a moment, just until Harry’s death grip on his arms loosened a bit. Then he was slamming into the heat beneath him, taking and taking and taking, barely hearing Harry’s hoarse screams of pleasure. He hardly noticed when Harry’s teeth sank into his arm, but a groan was forced out of him as Harry came, his muscles squeezing Snape until he was coming, unaware that his mouth was even moving, let alone chanting, “Oh fuck, Harry. Fuck, yes. Fuck. Harry!”
Snape had just enough energy to roll onto his side and pull the younger wizard against him before giving in to the lethargy pulling his eyelids shut.
Harry woke up with his face squashed against Severus’ chest. It took a moment to register that long fingers were stroking his arse, the tips just dipping into the warm crease. His cock twitched as those fingers traveled down until they were teasing his bollocks, causing him to try to inch his way up Severus’ chest, hoping to reposition himself to feel more of those fingers.
“Eager for more, are we?”
Harry’s fingers stroked over the long, hard length of Severus’ erection. “You know I am. I’ve thought of this for years. I may have become a decent Occlumens as far as other people are concerned, but I was never able to hold out against you.”
“I thought those were simply childish fantasies, spurred on by the amount of time we spent together. You made no attempts to pursue anything once you left school. You never sought me out when you came back to see Minerva.”
“I assumed that since you never mentioned what you saw, that you had no interest. You’ve never given me the smallest hint that you’d be open to any advances. All you’ve done is glare at me the few times I’ve seen you lately.”
Severus used his knees to leverage Harry’s legs open.
“I found you attractive, but you were too young before, with too much being asked of you for me to have added my own demands. Now, however, seems to be the perfect time.”
“You realize we may both end up in Azkaban? Damn, they still have our wands at the Ministry.”
Severus laughed at that. “No doubt the entire Wizarding World now knows we have no need of them. It may, however, be prudent to send a letter of apology to Madame Allbright, and leave for an extended vacation.”
Harry rubbed himself against Severus, needing more friction. “Together, yeah?”
“Yes, together. Who knows what kind of trouble you would find on your own?”