[Part Four] Potent Rewards. HPSS. R
Title: Potent Rewards (4/6)
Author: faynia and stormypup
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Rating: R
Categories: Romance, Drama, Angst, Humor
Warnings: Dubious consent
Summary: The final battle is over and Snape is ready to collect his reward, but is he ready for the consequences that come with it?
A/N: I'd like to thank my beta-reader topazmusings because she's just awesome!
Previous Chapters: Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
The only thing Harry could do over the following days was to throw himself into his studies to bring up his grades. If Snape reported him, at the very least he'd be seen as studious and not a slacker. Maybe, he wouldn't get expelled. Hermione was ecstatic to see him being so intent on his studies, while Ron had wondered if he was under Imperius. Hermione shut him up effectively and Harry didn't ask how she managed to do that.
However, despite all that, there was still something slowly gnawing at the back of his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he could not figure out why Snape hadn't made an appearance in days. As a matter of fact, the last time he remembered seeing Snape was when he had fled from the lab four days before. It seemed strange that Snape would hole himself up somewhere. Unless he's hurt. A pang of guilt shot through him and he dropped his fork onto his plate with a dull clang.
"Are you all right, Harry?"
Harry shot Hermione an exasperated glance, before grabbing his juice and taking a swig of it. The girl arched a brow and Harry sighed. "I'm fine, Hermione."
She kept her own counsel and went back to her food. However, the worried looks she sent his way made him wonder when she'd be cornering him again.
He had been contemplating telling Hermione what had been happening. Of all his friends, she was the least likely to blow up in his face about it. He knew he could count on her silence. Plus, he really did need her analytical mind to work this through.
Snape wasn't consuming his thoughts as frequently anymore, but he still couldn't shrug the feeling that something was wrong. Even if he had been under the influence of some potion or spell, who would want them together in the first place? But, what if it hadn't been an unknown person, then what would he do? How would he feel? He was stuck in between relief that he no longer was hard constantly but he couldn't shake the fact that he had felt safe and comfortable, even if it had been with Snape.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?" He looked at Hermione tiredly. "What?"
"We have class in ten minutes, are you sure you're-"
Harry placed a hand over her mouth and smiled. "I'm fine, let's go see if the greasy git has actually slithered out of his hole."
Hermione stifled a giggle. "Harry, that's mean."
Harry shrugged and smiled.
*****
Snape stared at the parchment on his desk, a fifth year essay on Wolfsbane potion. He'd been staring at the same essay for over five minutes, and he'd yet to grade a single sentence. He was so unbearably tired, his eyes burned from lack of sleep. He had forced down food that morning, despite the fact it tasted like ash and coal. If Minerva tried to feel his forehead one more time, he was going to hex the old cat. At least Pomfrey had left him alone after he snapped at her for the third time.
Snape set the essay aside and laid his head down on the desk, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure if being in the same room with Potter would help things or make it worse, but in ten minutes, he was going to find out. He didn't raise his head from the desk, too tired to care.
*****
Harry entered the Potion's classroom laughing, but that good mood didn't last longer than three steps in the door. His eyes widened in shock. Snape was, well, he really didn't look good. He looked like hell, actually.
He could hear the general murmuring of the classroom and it was all the same as his thoughts. Snape looked like shit. So, why were they there and who was going to go ask if he was all right?
By some bad misfortune of fate, Harry suddenly found himself being stared at pointedly by every member of the class.
"Me?" he mouthed, feeling his stomach bottom out.
Terry Boot nodded solemnly and Harry suddenly got the feeling he was going to be executed. Hermione patted his arm sympathetically. Why was everyone making such a big deal out of this? It wasn't like Snape was going to kill him, he hoped.
He shuffled forward and stopped right in front of Snape's desk. "Sir?"
Snape looked at Harry tiredly, cursing the small measure of relief he felt at the boy's presence. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale Potter's very essence. When he opened them again, he felt more composed. "Take your seat, Potter," he ordered, though it was lacking its usual bite. "Turn to page 98!" he told the rest of the class, his voice sounding raspy, even to his own ears.
Harry stared at Snape warily for a few seconds, before doing as ordered and sitting down next to Hermione. This was going to be an extremely long class.
Snape set them doing a potion that, while new to them, wasn't extremely difficult to make. He sat at his desk, barking the occasional warning when warranted. He could feel Potter's eyes on him, though he felt no desire to meet the boy's gaze. At least he wasn't trembling anymore. His body would adjust, the bond between them would fade. He was a Death Eater for Merlin's sake, not some bloody Hufflepuff!
Snape wondered if he'd still feel the same way if Potter weren't 15 yards away from him.
"Sir?" Harry called out across the silent classroom. His potion wasn't finished yet, not even close actually. All right, he hadn't started it at all. He had been too busy trying to figure out what happened during that 24 hour time period.
"What is it, Potter?" Snape asked, frowning.
Harry squirmed in his seat. "May I be excused?"
Snape swallowed, his stomach dropped. "No."
"But, sir-"
"I said no, Potter, now get back to work."
Harry bit his lip and squirmed uncomfortably on his bench. "Sir, please, I really have to go."
"You're not three, Potter, hold it!" he said, ignoring the giggling of the class.
Harry slammed his head against the tabletop. "Bastard," he hissed quietly at the floor. Hermione clucked her tongue reprovingly and Harry just groaned. He had been holding it, he'd been holding it for the past half hour and if he held it any longer, well, let's just say it would be unpleasant.
"Sir?" he grit out, not raising his head from the worktable, but raising his voice.
"GO!" Snape shouted, already feeling the itching returning. "Just go!"
Harry shot to his feet and scrambled out the door muffled laughter following him all the way down the hall, any sympathy he had felt for Snape before was completely gone in face of that humiliation.
Snape glared at the closed door, his whole body tensing, already willing the boy to come back. He lasted a full minute, a minute that felt like an eternity, before standing, his chair flying backwards. "Zabini! Don't let anything blow up," he growled, and went in search of the annoying brat!
Harry had not anticipated walking headlong into Snape when he exited the bathroom and looking up it appeared Snape hadn't anticipated it either.
"Professor!" he yelped, jumping backwards.
Looking around quickly, Snape grabbed Harry by the back of his robes and shoved him into an empty classroom. Once the door was closed behind them, Snape stood there, staring at the ground, his fist still clenched around Harry's robes. "Just...hold...still," he panted through clenched teeth, feeling humiliated. But the relief his body was going through overwhelmed his own embarrassment.
Harry couldn't move even if he wanted to. If he did, his shirt, not a good idea in the least,’d likely strangle him. So he stood there silently, listening to Snape's heavy breathing, letting the man cling to him for unknown reasons.
Well, okay, he wanted to know the reasons and Snape hadn't told him to remain silent. "Sir, what's wrong with you?"
Snape laughed mirthlessly, wanting to scream at the insanity of it all, and he had no one to blame but himself. He released Harry's robes, and fell against the wall, still not looking up. "I itch, Mr. Potter."
Harry's eyes widened. "But, the potion, shouldn't it have-"
"It did!" Snape snapped, interrupting him. "It fixed you, as it was intended to do," he said, finally meeting Harry's eyes. "As of yet, I have not found a cure for myself."
Harry's mouth opened partially as he stared at Snape for a long moment. He ran a hand through his hair repeatedly. "So that's why you look like shite then?"
Snape snorted. "Indeed," he muttered, before straightening up. "Return to class, Potter. I'll...be there shortly."
"You sure you'll be okay then?"
Snape looked at Harry with dull eyes. "Peachy."
Harry looked at him uncertainly. "All right then." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "If you say that in front of any one else though, they'd probably lock you away in St. Mungos."
That's the likely outcome anyway.
Snape just looked at Harry until the boy shifted nervously and left the room. Snape took some deep breaths, his mind going through the same exercises he used to get through the Cruciatus curse. A few minutes later, he was striding through the door of the classroom, robes billowing behind him. He felt numerous eyes upon him, but he ignored them all.
"You have ten minutes!" he informed them and began walking the room, inspecting cauldrons.
Harry waited impatiently for class to end. Snape was a right mess and it was partially his fault, although, he wasn't sure how or why. He did know, however, what the itching felt like and even if he did dislike Snape, he wasn't going to let the man's reputation die.
"Get out all of you!" Snape shouted angrily, causing more than half the class to jump in their seats and while they all scrambled to leave, Harry lagged behind, promising he'd catch up in a bit. He remained seated until the last student left before standing and slowly making his way towards Snape's desk. The barely perceptible nod was the only indication he got that Snape knew he was standing there.
"Detention at 7 tonight, sir?"
Snape closed his eyes and nodded, his humiliation now complete.
*****
At 6:45, Harry excused himself from his study session with Hermione and Ron, the latter had eventually caved under boredom and joined them in their pursuit of knowledge. Confidently, he strode through the long corridors of Hogwart's, nodding at a few of the portraits that waved at him and bending over to scratch Mrs. Norris behind the ears again.
He couldn't explain what was causing his good mood, but he suspected it had to do with Snape and the fact that for once the tables were turned and Harry was the one in charge. He didn't even bother knocking this time before he strolled casually into Snape's office.
"Good evening, professor," he greeted cheerfully.
Snape could actually feel Potter coming closer, which was both disconcerting and disheartening. When the brat strolled casually in the door, a smile upon his face, Snape wanted nothing more than to slam him to the floor and remind him who his Master was.
Instead, "Did you forget how to knock, Potter?"
Harry shrugged carelessly and perched himself on the corner of Snape's desk, ignoring the dirty look he received for doing so. He picked up a paperweight off the desk and tossed it back and forth between his hands. "How are you this evening, Professor?"
"Are you finding this amusing, Potter?" he spat angrily.
"Perhaps."
Snape was on his feet in an instant. "This is not a good time to push me," he snarled, his face within an inch of Harry's.
"And why is that?" Harry asked. His eyes narrowed challengingly as he waited for Snape to make his next move.
Snape was around the desk before Harry could finish his question, and a moment later, he had Harry on his back across his desk. He bent over the boy, his fingers twisting in the fabric of Harry's collar. "Would you like to ask that question again?" Snape hissed.
Harry's eyes widened a fraction. "What are you doing?"
"It's a little late to be scared, Potter. You always have to push, always need to see just how far you can go, don't you? I warned you, boy, but you refused to listen," Snape answered, his blood pounding so hard in his veins he could hardly think. He also felt more alive than he had in days, more solid, more himself. "It would serve you right if I took what I wanted from you, what I should have taken when you were throwing yourself at me! Coming to my office, practically begging me to make you cum," he snarled, furious now to come to close to having it all, and losing it so spectacularly. "You dreamed about it, didn't you," Snape crooned, "fantasized about my fucking you, and I could have, and you would have thanked me for it!"
He released his hold on Harry, looking at him with disgust. "And you think to come waltzing in here, a cocky grin on your face, just like your father! I'd rather suffer!"
"Let go of me, please."
Snape snorted, looking down at Potter who was still sprawled out on his desk. "I already have," he growled, amused that the boy was so thrown, he hadn't even realized that Snape had let him go moments before.
Harry blinked slowly and sat up, not really looking at Snape, not really looking anywhere.
"Sir?"
Snape slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands, ignoring Harry altogether. He had just given Potter enough ammunition to get him fired, thrown out on his ear, disgraced yet again. And worse than that, he was going to be bonded to the boy until it killed him. Unless he killed himself first, which was a better option than...this.
Harry tilted his head and watched Snape with some alarm. "Sir?" he asked with a bit more urgency.
Snape really didn't want to do this anymore. He'd wanted one thing, one thing to have control over, one thing that was his, and when he finally had it, it had felt empty and not at all satisfying. Not only was he tied to yet another Master, he had tied the cord himself.
He pressed his face against his knees, interlocking his fingers behind his head. He should have just let Potter burn a mark into his skin, make it official. Snape was sure he could hear Voldemort laughing at him from beyond the grave.
The second Snape gripped the back of his own head, Harry moved into action. He didn't know what he was doing or why, only that seeing Snape like this, defeated, it made him physically ill. He knelt beside the Potion's Master and hesitantly placed his hand on the man's shoulder. When he wasn't shrugged away, he squeezed gently.
This entire situation was beginning to give him a headache. He shifted until his knees hit the toes of Snape's shoes. He leaned down and looked at Snape's face through the crack between the man's legs.
"I don't know how to fix it," Snape whispered, wishing for the thousandth time the Dumbledore was still alive. He was the only person who could, if not forgive, at least move passed Snape's horrible choices.
Understanding suddenly passed through Harry leaving him both angry and confused. "What did you do?"
Snape raised his head, meeting Harry's eyes. "I did what I always do, Potter. I tried to take what I wanted using whatever means necessary. And as always happens, it has come back to bite me in the arse in a truly spectacular fashion," he said, his voice hollow. "Shall I call down the Headmistress now, or would you like to call her yourself?" he asked, knowing that it was over now.
It was a strange relief, just saying the words. He had no intention of going to Azkaban, and if he lost his job teaching moronic children it would really be no great loss.
"Why would I call Professor McGonagall, sir?" Harry questioned, truly bewildered. "What does she have to do with any of this?"
Snape shook his head. Just when he thought the boy actually had a brain in his head, he once again showed his boundless stupidity. "She would be the one you speak to in order to get me fired, Potter," he said, speaking as if Potter were a slow child.
"Yes, I understand that, Snape," Harry mimicked his slowness, "and I once again ask you, why I should be calling her?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
Harry shook his head. "Because this has nothing to do with her and it never did."
Snape looked at Harry blankly. "What are you talking about?" he asked irritably. Was he dragging this out just to torture him?
"Bloody hell, Snape." Harry locked eyes with him and held. "Ever since the war started all we ever did was fight and for the wrong reasons at that. Every time I tried to extend an olive branch, you threw it back in my face! You kept telling me you hated me but you never gave me a reason why. Why did you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you personally that made you hate me unconditionally from the day I started school? What, Snape? Can you even give me a good reason? You want to know why I'm not reporting you to McGonagall? It's because I'm horribly confused by all of this. You feed me a potion that obviously did not have the effects you intended it to, just to keep me with you. Why did you do that? When did your hatred turn in a different direction? What did you think was going to happen if it succeeded? Why did you do this?"
Harry bowed his head and sat backwards, heavily on the floor. "You owe me, Snape," he finally said after a long pause, "and all I want are answers."
"I didn't just hate you, Potter, I hated the very idea of you. Precious son of James and Lily Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, the bloody Boy Who Lived! The exact opposite of me, hated and reviled from the time I entered school to the day I left it!" Snape spat angrily. "And then you did everything in your power to live up to my expectations- flaunting the rules and getting rewarded for it, just like your father, everyone's hero! While I was the one following along behind you, saving your sorry arse time and time again, just so you could go and do something idiotic to throw it all away again!" he continued, all his old hurts and grudges coming to the surface yet again.
Harry didn't say anything for a long moment as he absorbed all that Snape had just told him. "And you really believed that. That I did all that because I wanted to?"
"No, I think you did it because you couldn't help yourself," Snape said, shaking his head, his lip curled in disdain. "You did it because you felt compelled to save everyone around you, with no thought to yourself. You made it impossible for me to protect you, and yet my life was very much tied up with yours."
"It didn't have to be. You could have just let me go and get killed, but you didn't. You can't hate someone than go risk your own neck to save them. It's just not done."
Snape snorted. "It was in my best interest to keep you alive, Potter, Dumbledore made that perfectly clear and after your fourth year, the Dark Lord made it even clearer. If you were to die, it would be by his hand and none other. He wouldn't have been as nice as Dumbledore had I failed in keeping you in one piece."
"Voldemort was a sick twisted fuck with a black hole of a heart, Snape, but I can't imagine he'd be nicer than Dumbledore, not in that at least-and what am I talking about?" Harry stopped himself and sighed in frustration. "Fine, you hate me because I ruined your life unintentionally, now what about the answers to the other questions?"
"What would you like me to say? That I watched you grow in power, that you filled out nicely and I just couldn't resist your manly charms?" Snape said, laughing derisively. "It's very simple, I wanted you. I attempted to take you. I'm now bound to you for the rest of my life. See my joy," he said, his face expressionless.
"You did it to yourself you know. You can't go blaming this on me as well."
"Of course I can," Snape said, shrugging. He knew exactly who was to blame for this mess, but there was no reason to tell Potter that. Now that Potter had been in the room, touching him even, his skin had finally stopped crawling, and his adrenaline had begun to fade, his exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. He leaned his head back against the wall.
"I just wanted...something, and I thought you could give it to me," he said, closing his eyes.
"Snape...Severus," Harry didn't dare breath when Snape's eyes snapped up to meet his. "What do you want?"
"You, but I've told you that a number of times this evening. What part aren't you understanding?" he asked, feeling oddly detached.
"The part where Severus Snape wants Harry Potter, but maybe I'm just being unusually thick." He pretended to think on this for a moment before a decidedly wicked grin graced his lips. Before Snape could do any more than stare at him wide eyed, Harry leaned forward and brushed his lips against Snape's. "I don't understand why anyone would want me," he admitted, before capturing Snape's lips once again.
Too tired and too surprised to think, Snape's hand reached up, his fingers gripping the hair on the back of Harry's head, holding him tightly and deepening the kiss, before the boy could change his mind.
Harry sighed happily, moving his lips at a leisurely pace forcing Snape to slow down, before things got too heated. He couldn't explain why this felt so nice nor did he want to question it. He ran a hand through Snape's hair marveling at the way it slid through his fingers.
Groaning, Snape put his hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back. "Stop," he growled, ignoring Harry's hurt look to reach for his wand. He spelled the door locked, dropping his wand and grabbed Harry, pulling him back and picking up where they left off.
The feel of his tongue against Harry's was making him light headed, and he wasn't sure if was natural, or if it was due to his bond to him. Then he decided it didn't matter, as long as he didn't stop.
Harry gasped softly and pulled back, leaning his head against Snape knees. His breath came out in short sharp pants and it took him a few seconds before he could look up at Snape again without wanting to jump him.
"You do you realize, don't you, that you're straight," Snape said, tilting his head to study Harry.
"I am?" he asked a bit thickly.
"You also do realize, don't you, that if the Weasley chit tries to grope you in the Great Hall again, she will get more than pumpkin juice in her lap," he continued, scowling.
Harry grinned and nodded. "I figured as much, yes."
"Harry, don't...don't do this if you can't follow through. It will only strengthen my connection to you, and it will make it that much more painful, physically, when you come to your senses and leave me," he said, resting his head on Harry's hands that were covering his knees.
Harry nodded, and tipped Snape's face up so he could see his eyes. "Give me one day. Tomorrow night, I'll tell you."
Snape nodded, and closed his eyes. "I think I might actually be able to sleep tonight."
"When was the last time you slept? Because I haven't slept in two days."
Snape's head lolled to the side as he looked at Harry. "What day did I give you that potion? I slept the day before that."
Harry furrowed his brow in thought. "I believe it was Saturday and it's Wednesday today." His gaze snapped up in shock. "You haven't slept since Friday night?!"
Snape shook his head tiredly. "Five minutes here or there, but then it...then I couldn't. Food tastes like eating ashes. Everything went so wrong," he said, his words slurring a bit now. "I just needed you to fix it, but I couldn't."
"You need to go to sleep then. You haven't done anything dim in your current state like start another potion, have you?"
"No, too tired, knew I'd blow something up. McGonagall keeps trying to take my temperature, nosy cat."
"I'm amazed she hasn't succeeded," Harry murmured. He stood up slowly and looked down at Snape. "You don't need help or anything do you?"
Snape looked at Harry with a brow arch. But then he realized he did need a bit of help after all. He held up an arm toward Harry.
Harry took Snape and helped him up carefully. Snape practically slumped against him once standing. Harry spared a passing thought on the idea that if he had just left and not offered Snape any help the man would have fallen asleep there on the office floor. He knew one thing for sure though, if Snape choose to fall asleep between now and the time they reached his quarters, Harry would find himself squished under the man's weight in the middle of the corridor until someone happened along, and he wasn't mean spirited enough to just leave Snape stranded in the hallway asleep.
"Where are your rooms?" Harry asked, adjusting Snape so the man's arm was draped over his shoulder and Harry could wrap an arm or two depending around Snape's waist.
Snape raised an arm and pointed, with a finger, the general direction to his quarters.
Harry navigated the hallway until he reached the end. Snape jerked his head towards the wall and Harry hoped he wasn't about to bonk their noses against the wall and would find themselves in a secret passage. He turned and walked straight through the wall and found himself as he hoped in a secret passage. Well, at the junction of two secret passageways it seemed.
"Which way?"
"Straight.”
Harry didn't nod, instead he moved forward until he came to a door. He reached for the knob and opened it, finding himself in a room he couldn't remember seeing before.
"Are these your...?"
"Yes, Potter," he said drowsily. "These are my rooms."
Harry figured he'd get to look around later as he steered Snape towards the overstuffed armchair. He unhooked Snape's arm from around his neck and gently lowered the tired man into the chair.
Snape pulled Harry down on top of him and buried his face in his neck. "Do you know what I want, Potter? I want know what your cock tastes like, how it tastes when you’re spurting down my throat." Snape had satisfied, drowsy smile on his face. "You don't even know if you're a top or bottom, but I can do either way. The first to fuck you. The first to be fucked by you. It all evens out in the wash, but you know what I want, more than anything?"
Harry froze when he was pulled down. Snape's breath caressed his neck and felt his face flush. "What?" he asked breathlessly, not even daring to turn his head.
Snape snored loudly into Harry's ear.
Next Chapter: Chapter Five
Author: faynia and stormypup
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Rating: R
Categories: Romance, Drama, Angst, Humor
Warnings: Dubious consent
Summary: The final battle is over and Snape is ready to collect his reward, but is he ready for the consequences that come with it?
A/N: I'd like to thank my beta-reader topazmusings because she's just awesome!
Previous Chapters: Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
The only thing Harry could do over the following days was to throw himself into his studies to bring up his grades. If Snape reported him, at the very least he'd be seen as studious and not a slacker. Maybe, he wouldn't get expelled. Hermione was ecstatic to see him being so intent on his studies, while Ron had wondered if he was under Imperius. Hermione shut him up effectively and Harry didn't ask how she managed to do that.
However, despite all that, there was still something slowly gnawing at the back of his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he could not figure out why Snape hadn't made an appearance in days. As a matter of fact, the last time he remembered seeing Snape was when he had fled from the lab four days before. It seemed strange that Snape would hole himself up somewhere. Unless he's hurt. A pang of guilt shot through him and he dropped his fork onto his plate with a dull clang.
"Are you all right, Harry?"
Harry shot Hermione an exasperated glance, before grabbing his juice and taking a swig of it. The girl arched a brow and Harry sighed. "I'm fine, Hermione."
She kept her own counsel and went back to her food. However, the worried looks she sent his way made him wonder when she'd be cornering him again.
He had been contemplating telling Hermione what had been happening. Of all his friends, she was the least likely to blow up in his face about it. He knew he could count on her silence. Plus, he really did need her analytical mind to work this through.
Snape wasn't consuming his thoughts as frequently anymore, but he still couldn't shrug the feeling that something was wrong. Even if he had been under the influence of some potion or spell, who would want them together in the first place? But, what if it hadn't been an unknown person, then what would he do? How would he feel? He was stuck in between relief that he no longer was hard constantly but he couldn't shake the fact that he had felt safe and comfortable, even if it had been with Snape.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?" He looked at Hermione tiredly. "What?"
"We have class in ten minutes, are you sure you're-"
Harry placed a hand over her mouth and smiled. "I'm fine, let's go see if the greasy git has actually slithered out of his hole."
Hermione stifled a giggle. "Harry, that's mean."
Harry shrugged and smiled.
*****
Snape stared at the parchment on his desk, a fifth year essay on Wolfsbane potion. He'd been staring at the same essay for over five minutes, and he'd yet to grade a single sentence. He was so unbearably tired, his eyes burned from lack of sleep. He had forced down food that morning, despite the fact it tasted like ash and coal. If Minerva tried to feel his forehead one more time, he was going to hex the old cat. At least Pomfrey had left him alone after he snapped at her for the third time.
Snape set the essay aside and laid his head down on the desk, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure if being in the same room with Potter would help things or make it worse, but in ten minutes, he was going to find out. He didn't raise his head from the desk, too tired to care.
*****
Harry entered the Potion's classroom laughing, but that good mood didn't last longer than three steps in the door. His eyes widened in shock. Snape was, well, he really didn't look good. He looked like hell, actually.
He could hear the general murmuring of the classroom and it was all the same as his thoughts. Snape looked like shit. So, why were they there and who was going to go ask if he was all right?
By some bad misfortune of fate, Harry suddenly found himself being stared at pointedly by every member of the class.
"Me?" he mouthed, feeling his stomach bottom out.
Terry Boot nodded solemnly and Harry suddenly got the feeling he was going to be executed. Hermione patted his arm sympathetically. Why was everyone making such a big deal out of this? It wasn't like Snape was going to kill him, he hoped.
He shuffled forward and stopped right in front of Snape's desk. "Sir?"
Snape looked at Harry tiredly, cursing the small measure of relief he felt at the boy's presence. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale Potter's very essence. When he opened them again, he felt more composed. "Take your seat, Potter," he ordered, though it was lacking its usual bite. "Turn to page 98!" he told the rest of the class, his voice sounding raspy, even to his own ears.
Harry stared at Snape warily for a few seconds, before doing as ordered and sitting down next to Hermione. This was going to be an extremely long class.
Snape set them doing a potion that, while new to them, wasn't extremely difficult to make. He sat at his desk, barking the occasional warning when warranted. He could feel Potter's eyes on him, though he felt no desire to meet the boy's gaze. At least he wasn't trembling anymore. His body would adjust, the bond between them would fade. He was a Death Eater for Merlin's sake, not some bloody Hufflepuff!
Snape wondered if he'd still feel the same way if Potter weren't 15 yards away from him.
"Sir?" Harry called out across the silent classroom. His potion wasn't finished yet, not even close actually. All right, he hadn't started it at all. He had been too busy trying to figure out what happened during that 24 hour time period.
"What is it, Potter?" Snape asked, frowning.
Harry squirmed in his seat. "May I be excused?"
Snape swallowed, his stomach dropped. "No."
"But, sir-"
"I said no, Potter, now get back to work."
Harry bit his lip and squirmed uncomfortably on his bench. "Sir, please, I really have to go."
"You're not three, Potter, hold it!" he said, ignoring the giggling of the class.
Harry slammed his head against the tabletop. "Bastard," he hissed quietly at the floor. Hermione clucked her tongue reprovingly and Harry just groaned. He had been holding it, he'd been holding it for the past half hour and if he held it any longer, well, let's just say it would be unpleasant.
"Sir?" he grit out, not raising his head from the worktable, but raising his voice.
"GO!" Snape shouted, already feeling the itching returning. "Just go!"
Harry shot to his feet and scrambled out the door muffled laughter following him all the way down the hall, any sympathy he had felt for Snape before was completely gone in face of that humiliation.
Snape glared at the closed door, his whole body tensing, already willing the boy to come back. He lasted a full minute, a minute that felt like an eternity, before standing, his chair flying backwards. "Zabini! Don't let anything blow up," he growled, and went in search of the annoying brat!
Harry had not anticipated walking headlong into Snape when he exited the bathroom and looking up it appeared Snape hadn't anticipated it either.
"Professor!" he yelped, jumping backwards.
Looking around quickly, Snape grabbed Harry by the back of his robes and shoved him into an empty classroom. Once the door was closed behind them, Snape stood there, staring at the ground, his fist still clenched around Harry's robes. "Just...hold...still," he panted through clenched teeth, feeling humiliated. But the relief his body was going through overwhelmed his own embarrassment.
Harry couldn't move even if he wanted to. If he did, his shirt, not a good idea in the least,’d likely strangle him. So he stood there silently, listening to Snape's heavy breathing, letting the man cling to him for unknown reasons.
Well, okay, he wanted to know the reasons and Snape hadn't told him to remain silent. "Sir, what's wrong with you?"
Snape laughed mirthlessly, wanting to scream at the insanity of it all, and he had no one to blame but himself. He released Harry's robes, and fell against the wall, still not looking up. "I itch, Mr. Potter."
Harry's eyes widened. "But, the potion, shouldn't it have-"
"It did!" Snape snapped, interrupting him. "It fixed you, as it was intended to do," he said, finally meeting Harry's eyes. "As of yet, I have not found a cure for myself."
Harry's mouth opened partially as he stared at Snape for a long moment. He ran a hand through his hair repeatedly. "So that's why you look like shite then?"
Snape snorted. "Indeed," he muttered, before straightening up. "Return to class, Potter. I'll...be there shortly."
"You sure you'll be okay then?"
Snape looked at Harry with dull eyes. "Peachy."
Harry looked at him uncertainly. "All right then." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "If you say that in front of any one else though, they'd probably lock you away in St. Mungos."
That's the likely outcome anyway.
Snape just looked at Harry until the boy shifted nervously and left the room. Snape took some deep breaths, his mind going through the same exercises he used to get through the Cruciatus curse. A few minutes later, he was striding through the door of the classroom, robes billowing behind him. He felt numerous eyes upon him, but he ignored them all.
"You have ten minutes!" he informed them and began walking the room, inspecting cauldrons.
Harry waited impatiently for class to end. Snape was a right mess and it was partially his fault, although, he wasn't sure how or why. He did know, however, what the itching felt like and even if he did dislike Snape, he wasn't going to let the man's reputation die.
"Get out all of you!" Snape shouted angrily, causing more than half the class to jump in their seats and while they all scrambled to leave, Harry lagged behind, promising he'd catch up in a bit. He remained seated until the last student left before standing and slowly making his way towards Snape's desk. The barely perceptible nod was the only indication he got that Snape knew he was standing there.
"Detention at 7 tonight, sir?"
Snape closed his eyes and nodded, his humiliation now complete.
*****
At 6:45, Harry excused himself from his study session with Hermione and Ron, the latter had eventually caved under boredom and joined them in their pursuit of knowledge. Confidently, he strode through the long corridors of Hogwart's, nodding at a few of the portraits that waved at him and bending over to scratch Mrs. Norris behind the ears again.
He couldn't explain what was causing his good mood, but he suspected it had to do with Snape and the fact that for once the tables were turned and Harry was the one in charge. He didn't even bother knocking this time before he strolled casually into Snape's office.
"Good evening, professor," he greeted cheerfully.
Snape could actually feel Potter coming closer, which was both disconcerting and disheartening. When the brat strolled casually in the door, a smile upon his face, Snape wanted nothing more than to slam him to the floor and remind him who his Master was.
Instead, "Did you forget how to knock, Potter?"
Harry shrugged carelessly and perched himself on the corner of Snape's desk, ignoring the dirty look he received for doing so. He picked up a paperweight off the desk and tossed it back and forth between his hands. "How are you this evening, Professor?"
"Are you finding this amusing, Potter?" he spat angrily.
"Perhaps."
Snape was on his feet in an instant. "This is not a good time to push me," he snarled, his face within an inch of Harry's.
"And why is that?" Harry asked. His eyes narrowed challengingly as he waited for Snape to make his next move.
Snape was around the desk before Harry could finish his question, and a moment later, he had Harry on his back across his desk. He bent over the boy, his fingers twisting in the fabric of Harry's collar. "Would you like to ask that question again?" Snape hissed.
Harry's eyes widened a fraction. "What are you doing?"
"It's a little late to be scared, Potter. You always have to push, always need to see just how far you can go, don't you? I warned you, boy, but you refused to listen," Snape answered, his blood pounding so hard in his veins he could hardly think. He also felt more alive than he had in days, more solid, more himself. "It would serve you right if I took what I wanted from you, what I should have taken when you were throwing yourself at me! Coming to my office, practically begging me to make you cum," he snarled, furious now to come to close to having it all, and losing it so spectacularly. "You dreamed about it, didn't you," Snape crooned, "fantasized about my fucking you, and I could have, and you would have thanked me for it!"
He released his hold on Harry, looking at him with disgust. "And you think to come waltzing in here, a cocky grin on your face, just like your father! I'd rather suffer!"
"Let go of me, please."
Snape snorted, looking down at Potter who was still sprawled out on his desk. "I already have," he growled, amused that the boy was so thrown, he hadn't even realized that Snape had let him go moments before.
Harry blinked slowly and sat up, not really looking at Snape, not really looking anywhere.
"Sir?"
Snape slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands, ignoring Harry altogether. He had just given Potter enough ammunition to get him fired, thrown out on his ear, disgraced yet again. And worse than that, he was going to be bonded to the boy until it killed him. Unless he killed himself first, which was a better option than...this.
Harry tilted his head and watched Snape with some alarm. "Sir?" he asked with a bit more urgency.
Snape really didn't want to do this anymore. He'd wanted one thing, one thing to have control over, one thing that was his, and when he finally had it, it had felt empty and not at all satisfying. Not only was he tied to yet another Master, he had tied the cord himself.
He pressed his face against his knees, interlocking his fingers behind his head. He should have just let Potter burn a mark into his skin, make it official. Snape was sure he could hear Voldemort laughing at him from beyond the grave.
The second Snape gripped the back of his own head, Harry moved into action. He didn't know what he was doing or why, only that seeing Snape like this, defeated, it made him physically ill. He knelt beside the Potion's Master and hesitantly placed his hand on the man's shoulder. When he wasn't shrugged away, he squeezed gently.
This entire situation was beginning to give him a headache. He shifted until his knees hit the toes of Snape's shoes. He leaned down and looked at Snape's face through the crack between the man's legs.
"I don't know how to fix it," Snape whispered, wishing for the thousandth time the Dumbledore was still alive. He was the only person who could, if not forgive, at least move passed Snape's horrible choices.
Understanding suddenly passed through Harry leaving him both angry and confused. "What did you do?"
Snape raised his head, meeting Harry's eyes. "I did what I always do, Potter. I tried to take what I wanted using whatever means necessary. And as always happens, it has come back to bite me in the arse in a truly spectacular fashion," he said, his voice hollow. "Shall I call down the Headmistress now, or would you like to call her yourself?" he asked, knowing that it was over now.
It was a strange relief, just saying the words. He had no intention of going to Azkaban, and if he lost his job teaching moronic children it would really be no great loss.
"Why would I call Professor McGonagall, sir?" Harry questioned, truly bewildered. "What does she have to do with any of this?"
Snape shook his head. Just when he thought the boy actually had a brain in his head, he once again showed his boundless stupidity. "She would be the one you speak to in order to get me fired, Potter," he said, speaking as if Potter were a slow child.
"Yes, I understand that, Snape," Harry mimicked his slowness, "and I once again ask you, why I should be calling her?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
Harry shook his head. "Because this has nothing to do with her and it never did."
Snape looked at Harry blankly. "What are you talking about?" he asked irritably. Was he dragging this out just to torture him?
"Bloody hell, Snape." Harry locked eyes with him and held. "Ever since the war started all we ever did was fight and for the wrong reasons at that. Every time I tried to extend an olive branch, you threw it back in my face! You kept telling me you hated me but you never gave me a reason why. Why did you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you personally that made you hate me unconditionally from the day I started school? What, Snape? Can you even give me a good reason? You want to know why I'm not reporting you to McGonagall? It's because I'm horribly confused by all of this. You feed me a potion that obviously did not have the effects you intended it to, just to keep me with you. Why did you do that? When did your hatred turn in a different direction? What did you think was going to happen if it succeeded? Why did you do this?"
Harry bowed his head and sat backwards, heavily on the floor. "You owe me, Snape," he finally said after a long pause, "and all I want are answers."
"I didn't just hate you, Potter, I hated the very idea of you. Precious son of James and Lily Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, the bloody Boy Who Lived! The exact opposite of me, hated and reviled from the time I entered school to the day I left it!" Snape spat angrily. "And then you did everything in your power to live up to my expectations- flaunting the rules and getting rewarded for it, just like your father, everyone's hero! While I was the one following along behind you, saving your sorry arse time and time again, just so you could go and do something idiotic to throw it all away again!" he continued, all his old hurts and grudges coming to the surface yet again.
Harry didn't say anything for a long moment as he absorbed all that Snape had just told him. "And you really believed that. That I did all that because I wanted to?"
"No, I think you did it because you couldn't help yourself," Snape said, shaking his head, his lip curled in disdain. "You did it because you felt compelled to save everyone around you, with no thought to yourself. You made it impossible for me to protect you, and yet my life was very much tied up with yours."
"It didn't have to be. You could have just let me go and get killed, but you didn't. You can't hate someone than go risk your own neck to save them. It's just not done."
Snape snorted. "It was in my best interest to keep you alive, Potter, Dumbledore made that perfectly clear and after your fourth year, the Dark Lord made it even clearer. If you were to die, it would be by his hand and none other. He wouldn't have been as nice as Dumbledore had I failed in keeping you in one piece."
"Voldemort was a sick twisted fuck with a black hole of a heart, Snape, but I can't imagine he'd be nicer than Dumbledore, not in that at least-and what am I talking about?" Harry stopped himself and sighed in frustration. "Fine, you hate me because I ruined your life unintentionally, now what about the answers to the other questions?"
"What would you like me to say? That I watched you grow in power, that you filled out nicely and I just couldn't resist your manly charms?" Snape said, laughing derisively. "It's very simple, I wanted you. I attempted to take you. I'm now bound to you for the rest of my life. See my joy," he said, his face expressionless.
"You did it to yourself you know. You can't go blaming this on me as well."
"Of course I can," Snape said, shrugging. He knew exactly who was to blame for this mess, but there was no reason to tell Potter that. Now that Potter had been in the room, touching him even, his skin had finally stopped crawling, and his adrenaline had begun to fade, his exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. He leaned his head back against the wall.
"I just wanted...something, and I thought you could give it to me," he said, closing his eyes.
"Snape...Severus," Harry didn't dare breath when Snape's eyes snapped up to meet his. "What do you want?"
"You, but I've told you that a number of times this evening. What part aren't you understanding?" he asked, feeling oddly detached.
"The part where Severus Snape wants Harry Potter, but maybe I'm just being unusually thick." He pretended to think on this for a moment before a decidedly wicked grin graced his lips. Before Snape could do any more than stare at him wide eyed, Harry leaned forward and brushed his lips against Snape's. "I don't understand why anyone would want me," he admitted, before capturing Snape's lips once again.
Too tired and too surprised to think, Snape's hand reached up, his fingers gripping the hair on the back of Harry's head, holding him tightly and deepening the kiss, before the boy could change his mind.
Harry sighed happily, moving his lips at a leisurely pace forcing Snape to slow down, before things got too heated. He couldn't explain why this felt so nice nor did he want to question it. He ran a hand through Snape's hair marveling at the way it slid through his fingers.
Groaning, Snape put his hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back. "Stop," he growled, ignoring Harry's hurt look to reach for his wand. He spelled the door locked, dropping his wand and grabbed Harry, pulling him back and picking up where they left off.
The feel of his tongue against Harry's was making him light headed, and he wasn't sure if was natural, or if it was due to his bond to him. Then he decided it didn't matter, as long as he didn't stop.
Harry gasped softly and pulled back, leaning his head against Snape knees. His breath came out in short sharp pants and it took him a few seconds before he could look up at Snape again without wanting to jump him.
"You do you realize, don't you, that you're straight," Snape said, tilting his head to study Harry.
"I am?" he asked a bit thickly.
"You also do realize, don't you, that if the Weasley chit tries to grope you in the Great Hall again, she will get more than pumpkin juice in her lap," he continued, scowling.
Harry grinned and nodded. "I figured as much, yes."
"Harry, don't...don't do this if you can't follow through. It will only strengthen my connection to you, and it will make it that much more painful, physically, when you come to your senses and leave me," he said, resting his head on Harry's hands that were covering his knees.
Harry nodded, and tipped Snape's face up so he could see his eyes. "Give me one day. Tomorrow night, I'll tell you."
Snape nodded, and closed his eyes. "I think I might actually be able to sleep tonight."
"When was the last time you slept? Because I haven't slept in two days."
Snape's head lolled to the side as he looked at Harry. "What day did I give you that potion? I slept the day before that."
Harry furrowed his brow in thought. "I believe it was Saturday and it's Wednesday today." His gaze snapped up in shock. "You haven't slept since Friday night?!"
Snape shook his head tiredly. "Five minutes here or there, but then it...then I couldn't. Food tastes like eating ashes. Everything went so wrong," he said, his words slurring a bit now. "I just needed you to fix it, but I couldn't."
"You need to go to sleep then. You haven't done anything dim in your current state like start another potion, have you?"
"No, too tired, knew I'd blow something up. McGonagall keeps trying to take my temperature, nosy cat."
"I'm amazed she hasn't succeeded," Harry murmured. He stood up slowly and looked down at Snape. "You don't need help or anything do you?"
Snape looked at Harry with a brow arch. But then he realized he did need a bit of help after all. He held up an arm toward Harry.
Harry took Snape and helped him up carefully. Snape practically slumped against him once standing. Harry spared a passing thought on the idea that if he had just left and not offered Snape any help the man would have fallen asleep there on the office floor. He knew one thing for sure though, if Snape choose to fall asleep between now and the time they reached his quarters, Harry would find himself squished under the man's weight in the middle of the corridor until someone happened along, and he wasn't mean spirited enough to just leave Snape stranded in the hallway asleep.
"Where are your rooms?" Harry asked, adjusting Snape so the man's arm was draped over his shoulder and Harry could wrap an arm or two depending around Snape's waist.
Snape raised an arm and pointed, with a finger, the general direction to his quarters.
Harry navigated the hallway until he reached the end. Snape jerked his head towards the wall and Harry hoped he wasn't about to bonk their noses against the wall and would find themselves in a secret passage. He turned and walked straight through the wall and found himself as he hoped in a secret passage. Well, at the junction of two secret passageways it seemed.
"Which way?"
"Straight.”
Harry didn't nod, instead he moved forward until he came to a door. He reached for the knob and opened it, finding himself in a room he couldn't remember seeing before.
"Are these your...?"
"Yes, Potter," he said drowsily. "These are my rooms."
Harry figured he'd get to look around later as he steered Snape towards the overstuffed armchair. He unhooked Snape's arm from around his neck and gently lowered the tired man into the chair.
Snape pulled Harry down on top of him and buried his face in his neck. "Do you know what I want, Potter? I want know what your cock tastes like, how it tastes when you’re spurting down my throat." Snape had satisfied, drowsy smile on his face. "You don't even know if you're a top or bottom, but I can do either way. The first to fuck you. The first to be fucked by you. It all evens out in the wash, but you know what I want, more than anything?"
Harry froze when he was pulled down. Snape's breath caressed his neck and felt his face flush. "What?" he asked breathlessly, not even daring to turn his head.
Snape snored loudly into Harry's ear.
Next Chapter: Chapter Five