FIC: "Prince Expectant" Part 3 - for Calliope Feldwick
Title: Prince Expectant
Written for: Participant #014, Calliope Feldwick - aka - florahart
Author: Participant #051, Hepatica Whortleberry h_whortleberry - aka - chazpure
Rating: Containing subject matter of the most Indelicate Nature! Suitable only for those of the Hardiest constitutions, whose Mature minds are undisturbed by Tales of Passionate and Erotic Discourse! (NC17)
Pairings: Primary: Severus/Harry; there are numerous minor pairings. Please see Content and Notes.
Length: 42,000 words
Content: slash, het, oral, anal, masturbation, dubious consent, orgies, sex magic, mind/mood altering substances, male pregnancy, rimming, pregnant sex, h/c, schmoop, tortured Latin.
He might have dozed off for a bit, and he was fairly sure someone had given him more brandy...and possibly a butterbeer with some of that nameless potion in it...and his head still wasn't working quite the way he thought it was supposed to, but his libido was more than making up for it.
He did manage to make it out from under the table at some point, and he'd staggered all the way across the hall into the parlour without further sexual entanglements, although he never did recover his dressing gown.
Everything was very blurry, but he thought he recalled seeing Lupin snogging Tonks passionately in a wing chair at one point, and Longbottom and the Weasley girl rolling around on the hearthrug. He had the vague impression he'd had his cock up another arse or two, and he distinctly recalled Shacklebolt grinning ferally at him as he wrapped his huge hand around both of their cocks and wanked them to mutual orgasm behind the bust of Andronicus Nigellus in the entryway.
It must be fairly late, he decided, peering at the wall clock as he leaned against the bannister to the front staircase. He couldn't decipher the time, but the parlour and front entry had been deserted for quite a while. No further arrivals had occurred for some time, and people had drifted off to other rooms.
He heard someone coming down the stairs and looked up to see Minerva beaming at him. Her eyes were sparkling and she had apparently a libation or six, judging from her rosy cheeks and the very careful way she was descending the stairs.
"Severus!" she cried, and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so very glad to see you! Oh, it's just wonderful, isn't it! You Know Who gone and everyone so happy!" She squeezed him tightly, then dropped her hands and grabbed his arse. His cock jumped to attention again, but she merely pulled back and smiled brightly at him. "I've just come from St. Mungo's; I popped in to let everyone know that Harry will be released very soon - no more than another hour or so, they said." She kissed him on both cheeks, almost absently, then said, "Well, I'm off to the school for a bit! There's so much to do! I'll stop by in the morning. Good night, dear!" She blinked a few times, then seemed to focus and suddenly apparated out.
Severus was left slumped against the wall with his mind in a daze and another raging erection tenting out his pyjamas.
"Professor! Oh, dear, are you all right?" It was Lovegood this time, and he had no idea if she was also under the influence, or if that was merely her normal vague expression. She put an arm around him and helped him upright. She didn't seem to find his state of undress peculiar, but she did stare at his erection and gasp in alarm. "Professor! Oh, dear, have you caught them too?" She clapped one hand over his crotch and gripped his cock none too gently.
He yelped and grabbed at her hand, but nearly fell as a wave of dizziness crashed over him.
"Well, it doesn't feel too bad," she said judiciously, running her hand over him and reaching down to cup his bollocks through the thin cotton. "You'll want to take care of that before it gets any worse, of course. Do you use the classical treatment, or do you ascribe to Pettifogge's theories on the use of salamander blood and fairy wings?"
Severus stared at her, but could make no sense of what she was saying. He heard someone else coming down the hallway, and Luna turned to look, then smiled. "Viktor! You're just in time! I need to go help Terry with that nasty quirkasnarfle infestation he picked up on his penis. I was just heading to the pantry for a tin of syrup; that's the only reliable way to get rid of them, you know - golden syrup and pixie dust."
Severus peered blearily at the brawny Bulgarian, who clearly had no idea what Lovegood was blathering on about, but equally clearly was well accustomed to her rambling.
"You won't mind giving Professor Snape a hand, will you? I think he's got a touch of the same trouble." She gave Severus a slight push that sent him stumbling rubber-kneed into Krum's arms. Strong hands caught and held him upright.
"I vill be happy to take care of him, Luna," Krum said, grinning salaciously at Severus's prominent erection. "You go to help Terry."
"Thank you, Viktor! I'll see you later, Professor!" Lovegood waved cheerily as she headed down toward the kitchen, weaving noticeably from side to side as she walked.
Severus tried to draw himself up to his full height and glare at the upstart from Durmstrang, but for some reason his body refused to obey, and he leaned forward against Krum's broad, solid chest instead.
His cock thought that was a brilliant beginning.
Krum smirked at him. "You haff need of some assistance, Professor?" He asked, raising one bushy eyebrow. "I am thinking this is vanting attention, no?" he said, sliding one hand down between and rubbing Severus's erection gently.
Severus let out a very undignified whimper. "Yes, damn you," he bit out, gasping and trying to thrust into the sturdy hand that held him in its Seeker's grip.
Krum pushed him back against the velvet brocade-draped wall and slid down to his knees, trailing his hands down Severus's chest and thighs. He settled comfortably in front of him, twitched the waistband of Severus's pyjamas down under his bollocks and wrapped one hand around Severus's grateful cock. He stroked him a few times, then gave a firm lick with his broad tongue right across the weeping glans.
Severus bucked against his face. Krum grinned up at him and took him into his mouth. He ran his tongue around the head of Severus's prick, flicking it under his foreskin and across the piss slit. His strong hands held Severus's hips firmly pressed back against the wall, keeping him from thrusting as his prick demanded. He took him deeper, sliding his tongue down along the great pulsing vein and rasping it up and down along the shaft.
All too soon, he let Severus's cock bob free of his mouth and licked his lips. "That vill do for a start," he said, turning Severus around to face the wall. He pulled the pyjamas all the way down to the floor and parted Severus's cheeks with blunt, calloused thumbs. He licked a long, slow line from the base of Severus's spine, all the way down over his arsehole and along his perineum.
Severus gasped at the sensation, then stiffened as Krum retraced the line over and over, shortening the path a little each time, until his tongue was lashing back and forth over Severus's quivering arsehole. Severus gripped the draperies hard and tried to rub his hard, aching prick against them while pushing back onto Krum's tongue at the same time, groaning with need.
Krum took his time teasing his hole, wriggling the tip of his tongue just inside and back out, sucking and nibbling and licking again, before driving it back inside. Despite having come more times than he could remember already, Severus was about to explode.
Krum sat back on his heels and wriggled one finger into Severus's arsehole, sliding it in and out a few times.
Severus growled.
Krum laughed and got to his feet. Severus heard him fumbling with his clothes, and a soft fwhoom! that might have come from the parlour. Krum leaned against him and slid his hot prick along the crack of Severus's arse. "You like that? You vant me to fuck you good, Professor?" he asked, whispering huskily into Severus's ear, his breath hot and redolent of fire whisky and potion. He muttered a spell in a Germanic-sounding tongue, and Severus felt something slippery fill his arse.
"I haff done much fuckings, all over the vorld," Krum panted as he pressed the head of his cock into Severus's arse, "vomen, and men, and vonce even a centaur!"
He felt huge, and Severus gasped and squirmed as the massive cock breached him. He clung to the draperies and tried to accommodate the invader, bearing down in an effort to take it in. His own cock was throbbing and copiously weeping precome, but he could not spare the effort to attend to it. He gritted his teeth and pushed back onto Krum's cock.
"I haff had Bulgarians and English and Russians and an Italian and even Chinese," Krum said as he started to thrust. "And vone time I vas in Patagonia and there vas a vampire that vas a huge Quvidditch fan..."
Krum was rambling on and on, but he had set a good, hard, steady rhythm, and Severus nearly wept in relief as Krum pounded into him. He closed his eyes and thrust his cock hard against the wall on every stroke, and relished the throbbing, burning burst of pleasure in his arse at every forceful thrust.
)*(-)*(-)*(
Harry was more than ready to get out of St. Mungo's. They'd wanted to keep him "under observation," but it felt much more like detention or protective custody, and he was heartily sick and tired of being stared at in awe or poked, prodded and otherwise pestered by one healer after the other.
Ron and many of his other friends had offered to stay and wait with him, but he'd figured the sooner any of them could get out of this place, the better. Even Professor McGonagall had agreed, when he told her to go ahead and leave without him; he might need them on the outside, if he wound up needing help getting out.
There wasn't anything wrong with him, as far as he could tell. Oh, he could still feel the ripples of wild magic coursing through him, a faint reminder of he raging torrent that had rushed through him when he'd tapped into the channel Snape had provided him, to destroy Voldemort.
It felt distinctly odd to realize that Voldemort was gone, and even stranger to realize that he had linked up with the traitorous murderer of Albus Dumbledore to do it.
Except that he hadn't been a traitor...and it hadn't been murder.
He had worked so hard to sustain his hatred, it had really surprised him when it had melted into sorrow and regret at the touch of Snape's mind on his. He'd been practicing Legilimency and Occlumency at Hermione's suggestion, ever since the Headmaster's death. He'd finally found the proper motivation; he'd been determined not to leave himself vulnerable to Snape's mind magic, and he'd studied and practiced as hard as possible.
So when Snape had called to his mind across the battlefield, he'd been instantly suspicious, but he'd also been able to read more than what was on the surface of the man's message. He'd seen the determination and desperation, but he had also felt Snape's grief and self-loathing and somehow, as he allowed himself to connect to Snape, he had known that whatever he might have done, he had been compelled to do, and he would sooner have died himself....except that he was bound to obey Dumbledore's commands.
Harry had managed to take his own swirling anger, grief, and pain in that moment and forge them into a magical flame hot enough to burn the sliver of Voldemort's soul from his own scar. He had used what was left to sever the anchor points of Voldemort's power web. He'd felt no triumph as the magic spun in and destroyed its master, only relief and a vast weariness.
He'd spent the night and most of the day at St. Mungo's now, and he was getting heartily sick of it.
The door to his room swung open, and the Chief Healer and Diagnostician came in, smiling at him. "Well, Mr. Potter, your last set of tests are in, and they're quite promising. I don't see any lingering spell damage, although there is that ripple effect we discussed earlier. I think we'll have another course of--"
"No."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said, 'no.' I've had enough, and I'm ready to go home. If I feel sick, I'll come back, all right? But for now, I'm done, and I'm leaving."
"I say, you can't just--"
Harry arched an eyebrow at the healer, who was getting rather flustered. "I can't? Doctor, I just destroyed the most powerful Dark wizard in a generation. Granted, I had a lot of help, but I really don't think there's anything holding me here. I can send for some of that help, if necessary, by the way. My friends would be only too happy to come get me out of here, if I called them..." he let his voice trail off and dramatically rolled his eyes up and tipped his head back, as if going into a trance.
"No, no, no! I'm...I'm sure that's not necessary," the healer said. "I'll see that your records are properly annotated. You'll come back for some more tests, in...a week, shall we say?"
Harry opened his eyes and smiled at him. "Sure."
He'd wasted no time heading for the lobby and Flooing to Grimmauld Place.
He stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot from his clothes. Professor McGonagall had taken pity on him during her visit and had transfigured the pale green hospital robe into a t-shirt and jeans and the flimsy scuffs into a pair of trainers. They weren't quite right, but a respectable simulation of real Muggle clothes.
He was rather surprised to find the parlour empty. There were some empty butterbeer and wine bottles on the floor, and a rather heavy scent of sex in the air. Harry grinned. Well, at least they hadn't wasted any time in starting the celebrations! There was faint laughter from down the hall, and he stepped to the doorway and started to turn that way, but a soft whimper from nearby stopped him in his tracks.
"Yah, you like it, huh? Like this!"
It sounded a little like Krum, who had come over to England and joined the fight against Voldemort a few months previously, but his voice was thicker and a little slurred.
There was a deep grunt and a wet, rhythmic sound. Harry rolled his eyes. Apparently Krum didn't mind doing his celebrating in public.
"Yah! Take it! Take it all!"
There was another whimper and a deep groan of pain.
Harry turned toward the front entry in alarm. What the hell?
"I haff never fucked a Death Eater before--"
Harry ran down the hall and stopped to stare in horror at the scene before him. Krum had Snape pushed up against the wall and was brutally fucking him. Krum's face was red and his eyes a little wild, and Snape...
Snape was naked, clutching the drapes, his knuckles white with strain as he tried to hold himself up. There were red marks and purpling bruises all over his pale skin. His eyes were tightly shut, his teeth clenched, and his cheeks were wet with tears. He groaned again, and bit off something like a sob as Krum thrust into him with punishing force, slamming him up against the wall again and chuckling sadistically.
"I haff heard the Death Eaters vere alvays fucking like animals - is it so, Professor? You like it so? Hard and fast? I fuck you good, eh?"
Harry lunged across the foyer and grabbed Krum by the shoulders, ripping him away from Snape and flinging him across the room on pure momentum. "You fucking bastard! He's on our side! What the fuck were you doing?!" he screamed at him in outrage.
Krum spun across the space and fell over the stairs, clutching at the black velvet drapery covering the portrait of Walburga Black. She shrieked loudly as the fabric tore. "UNCLEAN PERVERTED SCUM! MUDBLOOD VERMIN! DISHONORING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!"
It was enough to distract Krum. "Shut up, vitch! I haff blood more pure than yours, old voman! And real blood, not paint and oil! Enough for this!" Krum yelled back, waggling his huge, red cock in her horrified face. "Yah! You see! This for your house and your stupid pureblood vays!" He shoved his cock up against her painting and rubbed it back and forth, then began wanking. Walburga's painted face twisted in disgust, then her eyebrows rose and her face purpled as he began coming, spurting all over her canvas.
Harry turned from the ludicrous sight to Snape, who was slumped against the wall, practically hanging by his hands, which still had a death grip on the heavy brocade draperies.
"Snape? Professor? It's...it's all right. It's Harry. Come on...let's get out of here," he said. He drew his wand and cast a quick cleaning and healing spell.
At the tingling touch of the spell, Snape tensed, and then...wailed. Harry winced at the sound, but bent and pulled up the man's pyjamas. That fucking bastard Krum must have pulled Snape right out of his bed! He glared over his shoulder at the Bulgarian, who had finished what he'd been doing and slumped down onto the stairs. He was already snoring.
"I'm sorry, Professor...God, I'm sorry! I...I guess he was drunk. We'll deal with him, I promise! But it's okay, you're going to be all right..." he knew he was babbling, but he'd hardly expected to return to headquarters to find a rape in progress! And he'd never in his wildest nightmares imagined he'd be trying to help Severus Snape through the aftermath of such a trauma. He'd hardly sorted out his own feelings about Snape, but he did know that the man hadn't deserved what Krum had done to him.
"Come on, Professor, let's get you someplace comfortable...and safe." He put an arm around Snape and gently turned him toward the hall. Snape slumped against him and mumbled something. Poor bastard was probably out of his head, Harry thought. He'd have to get someone to send for Madam Pomfrey, but the first priority was to get Snape back into bed and under decent wards, for his own protection and Harry's peace of mind.
Why the hell hadn't someone been watching him? Harry fumed as they made their way toward the sounds of laughter. He thought he'd better see who was supposed to have been watching him, to let them know he was going to move Snape to a safer room - and to tell them to keep an eye on fucking Viktor Krum, the rapist bastard.
He pushed open the door to the kitchen and blinked in surprise.
Well, it was no wonder nobody had come to Snape's rescue. The assembled might of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's army was currently either utterly blitzed or shagging its arse off, or both!
Dean had Seamus bent over the sink and was happily humping him.
The Creevey brothers were sitting amid a dozen empty bottles, giggling and hiccoughing.
Several bare feet stuck out from beneath the table, toes curling and flexing.
Hermione was sitting on Ron's lap, and -- Harry looked away quickly.
Tonks was straddling Remus, who was lying across the door to the pantry with a bottle of brandy in one hand.
Terry Boot was stretched out on the kitchen table, with a broad grin on his face and Luna pouring some amber fluid over his rampant cock. "Hold still, Terry! Do you want to lose this?" She looked up from her task and smiled at Harry. "Harry! How nice to see you!"
"Harry!"
"HARRY!"
"HARRY!"
There was a sudden flurry of activity as people stood up, disengaged, and crawled out from beneath the table. Harry found himself swept into a group hug, and then everyone was kissing him - on the cheek, the nose, and of course, full on the mouth. It was one big blur, as he spun from one friend to another, each hugging and kissing him again, laughing and crying and shouting and holding glasses of wine and spirits and butterbeer to his lips and pounding him on the back...
The joy was infectious, and Harry let himself wallow in it for a while. He tried to keep hold of Snape, but they were pulled apart at some point, and when he finally caught his breath, Harry scanned the room anxiously for him, breathing a sigh of relief to see him leaning against the credenza.
"Hermione...Hermione!" he had to grab her shoulder to get her attention, and when she turned to him, er usually sharp brown eyes seemed slightly unfocused. "Listen, Hermione, I've got to get Snape somewhere...safe. I'm taking him up to my room; I'll ward it so you - and McGonagall, I guess - can get in, but I don't want anyone bothering him. Krum..." Harry paused, suddenly uncertain. Everyone was still beaming, but they were also starting to grope one another again, and it looked like the Weasley twins were pulling Neville back under the table. Something decidedly odd was going on. He felt himself flushing as his own cock twitched. "Well, just be sure to keep Krum away from him, okay? I think he's drunk, so watch yourself around him, too, huh?"
Hermione smiled brightly. "Sure, Harry! And remember what we promised, okay?" She leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. "It really wouldn't do any good anyway, right? Right! Righty-ho!" She giggled and patted his cheek. "So sweet!" She suddenly looked around, blankly. "Ron? Where are you, Ron?" She stumbled away and launched herself at Ron, who wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her passionately.
Something was not right.
Harry shrugged, chalking it up to an excess of celebration. Best get Snape up to bed - he winced as his cock twitched again and the vision of Krum buggering Snape flitted through his mind. God, he must be sick, to even think of getting off on that! He flushed in shame and spotted a tall, icy bottle of butter-rum punch on the table, its sides beaded with condensation. He snagged a cup from the table, poured himself a splash and took a long drink. The cold, rich drink cooled his flaming cheeks and warmed his belly. He poured another cup and pushed his way through the snogging couples to Snape's side.
"Here, Professor, have a sip of this," he said, holding out the cup. Snape looked blearily at him and sighed, but took the cup and drank. "Come on, then, let's get you to bed." Harry eased an arm around him and Snape and led him from the kitchen, down the hall to the main staircase, and up to the next storey.
Halfway up the stairs, Snape stumbled and fell against him. Harry grabbed him with both arms to keep him from falling. Snape looked at him and gave a tired smile. "Potter. You're alive."
It was the first thing Snape had said to him since their connection on the battlefield.
"Yeah," Harry said, trying to ignore how close Snape's crotch was to his, and how the bare skin of his torso felt under his palms. "Here we are, both alive. Voldemort's dead, and here we are. Who would have guessed?"
Snape snorted and slumped against Harry's shoulder. "Albus," he muttered. "Albus was always so soddin' certain..."
"Yeah," Harry felt his throat tighten. "Well, guess he was right, after all." He started back up the stairs. "Come on. That's right, just a few more steps. Easy, now..."
It seemed an awfully long way to his room, and Snape's skin was really hot...er...warm to the touch, and smooth, where it wasn't marked with scars. And Snape...he was resting his head on Harry's shoulder and crooning softly, too softly for Harry to make out the words.
Harry was getting hard. By the time they reached his room, he was drenched in sweat, and his cock was pulsing and drooling precome. He bit his lip, hard, and managed to get Severus inside and stretched out on the bed.
His heart was pounding as he locked and warded the door, using a few extra protective spells and warnings to alert him if anyone came near the doorway. He paused and tried to calm himself, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. It was a big room; he'd make sure Snape was settled, then stretch out on the chaise and sleep there. He sternly told his cock to behave, then turned back to the bed.
Severus had pushed his pyjamas down and was slowly, lazily wanking. He lay on his side, watching Harry, his glittering black eyes never blinking as he stroked himself up and down, up and down.
Harry tried to clear his throat.
Snape swiped his thumb over the purpled head of his cock and licked his lips.
"Potter..."
"Snape...I..."
Snape slid his free hand down and pressed his fingers into his arse as he continued wanking.
"Snape...Severus..."
"Quit your babbling, boy, and get over here," Snape growled at him.
Harry's cock was prodding him in the belly, and his senses were swirling. He tried, tried to turn around and stretch out on the chaise, but Snape closed his eyes and moaned, thrusting his fingers in and out and rubbing his palm over the juicy head of his cock, and Harry was lost.
He stumbled to the bed, stripping out of his transfigured clothes as he went. Snape rolled onto his back and pulled his knees apart and back.
"Yessss..." he hissed, as Harry crawled between his legs and clumsily began rubbing their cocks together.
Snape's scent was intoxicating. Harry leaned down and buried his nose in his former Potions Master's neck, breathing deep. Snape bucked up against him, urging him on. Harry frotted harder against him, gasping as their cocks slid along one another. His senses seemed somehow sharpened; he felt every inch of Snape's skin, heard the pounding of his heart, could almost feel the magic, thrumming just beneath the surface of his skin, about to break free.
"Potter!" Snape's hands were grabbing at him, pushing, pulling - Harry had the vaguely alarming thought that Snape wanted him to stop, but then Snape shifted and Harry found himself with his cock sliding between Snape's arsecheeks.
"Yes...yes, you imbecile! Now!"
Harry's body did not need any more encouragement. He grabbed hold of his prick, lined up and pressed inside, feeling Severus's hot, slippery channel clasping him all the way in. Snape gasped and threw his head back. Harry paused, but Snape moaned, "Move! Move, damn you!" His hands were on Harry's arse, pulling him in deeper.
Harry began thrusting; sliding almost all the way out and snapping his hips to drive back in again. The sense of connection was tripled now; he could almost feel what Snape felt as he fucked him, feel the fullness and friction, the sweet, sensual slide of heated flesh in his own arse, even as he felt his cock sliding in and out of Snape's.
Snape made little gasps and groans as they moved together. Harry wrapped one hand around Snape's stiff shaft and began stroking it in time to his thrusts. Snape threw his head back and thrust his hips up, driving Harry deeper and sliding his prick through Harry's fist.
Harry was panting and dripping with sweat. His bollocks felt tight, almost to bursting, and his cock was hard as steel as he drove it in again and again. He twisted his hips a bit and thrust hard, and Snape gasped, eyes suddenly wide. "Again!" he choked out.
Harry obliged, and Snape's cock suddenly jerked wildly in his grip. Snape gave a hoarse cry and his entire body shook as he came, creamy bursts of come spurting out over Harry's fist and spattering their chests. Harry sped up his thrusts as Snape's cock pulsed out its offering, then felt his bollocks draw up even more, painfully tight, and his own cock spasm as he came, flooding Snape's arse with his come.
They were frozen in place, every muscle taut, until they had both fully spent. Harry pulled out with a groan and flopped onto the bed, panting. Snape eased his legs down to the bed and gave a gusty sigh.
They were both snoring in moments.
)*(-)*(-)*(
Continued in Part 4
Written for: Participant #014, Calliope Feldwick - aka - florahart
Author: Participant #051, Hepatica Whortleberry h_whortleberry - aka - chazpure
Rating: Containing subject matter of the most Indelicate Nature! Suitable only for those of the Hardiest constitutions, whose Mature minds are undisturbed by Tales of Passionate and Erotic Discourse! (NC17)
Pairings: Primary: Severus/Harry; there are numerous minor pairings. Please see Content and Notes.
Length: 42,000 words
Content: slash, het, oral, anal, masturbation, dubious consent, orgies, sex magic, mind/mood altering substances, male pregnancy, rimming, pregnant sex, h/c, schmoop, tortured Latin.
He might have dozed off for a bit, and he was fairly sure someone had given him more brandy...and possibly a butterbeer with some of that nameless potion in it...and his head still wasn't working quite the way he thought it was supposed to, but his libido was more than making up for it.
He did manage to make it out from under the table at some point, and he'd staggered all the way across the hall into the parlour without further sexual entanglements, although he never did recover his dressing gown.
Everything was very blurry, but he thought he recalled seeing Lupin snogging Tonks passionately in a wing chair at one point, and Longbottom and the Weasley girl rolling around on the hearthrug. He had the vague impression he'd had his cock up another arse or two, and he distinctly recalled Shacklebolt grinning ferally at him as he wrapped his huge hand around both of their cocks and wanked them to mutual orgasm behind the bust of Andronicus Nigellus in the entryway.
It must be fairly late, he decided, peering at the wall clock as he leaned against the bannister to the front staircase. He couldn't decipher the time, but the parlour and front entry had been deserted for quite a while. No further arrivals had occurred for some time, and people had drifted off to other rooms.
He heard someone coming down the stairs and looked up to see Minerva beaming at him. Her eyes were sparkling and she had apparently a libation or six, judging from her rosy cheeks and the very careful way she was descending the stairs.
"Severus!" she cried, and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so very glad to see you! Oh, it's just wonderful, isn't it! You Know Who gone and everyone so happy!" She squeezed him tightly, then dropped her hands and grabbed his arse. His cock jumped to attention again, but she merely pulled back and smiled brightly at him. "I've just come from St. Mungo's; I popped in to let everyone know that Harry will be released very soon - no more than another hour or so, they said." She kissed him on both cheeks, almost absently, then said, "Well, I'm off to the school for a bit! There's so much to do! I'll stop by in the morning. Good night, dear!" She blinked a few times, then seemed to focus and suddenly apparated out.
Severus was left slumped against the wall with his mind in a daze and another raging erection tenting out his pyjamas.
"Professor! Oh, dear, are you all right?" It was Lovegood this time, and he had no idea if she was also under the influence, or if that was merely her normal vague expression. She put an arm around him and helped him upright. She didn't seem to find his state of undress peculiar, but she did stare at his erection and gasp in alarm. "Professor! Oh, dear, have you caught them too?" She clapped one hand over his crotch and gripped his cock none too gently.
He yelped and grabbed at her hand, but nearly fell as a wave of dizziness crashed over him.
"Well, it doesn't feel too bad," she said judiciously, running her hand over him and reaching down to cup his bollocks through the thin cotton. "You'll want to take care of that before it gets any worse, of course. Do you use the classical treatment, or do you ascribe to Pettifogge's theories on the use of salamander blood and fairy wings?"
Severus stared at her, but could make no sense of what she was saying. He heard someone else coming down the hallway, and Luna turned to look, then smiled. "Viktor! You're just in time! I need to go help Terry with that nasty quirkasnarfle infestation he picked up on his penis. I was just heading to the pantry for a tin of syrup; that's the only reliable way to get rid of them, you know - golden syrup and pixie dust."
Severus peered blearily at the brawny Bulgarian, who clearly had no idea what Lovegood was blathering on about, but equally clearly was well accustomed to her rambling.
"You won't mind giving Professor Snape a hand, will you? I think he's got a touch of the same trouble." She gave Severus a slight push that sent him stumbling rubber-kneed into Krum's arms. Strong hands caught and held him upright.
"I vill be happy to take care of him, Luna," Krum said, grinning salaciously at Severus's prominent erection. "You go to help Terry."
"Thank you, Viktor! I'll see you later, Professor!" Lovegood waved cheerily as she headed down toward the kitchen, weaving noticeably from side to side as she walked.
Severus tried to draw himself up to his full height and glare at the upstart from Durmstrang, but for some reason his body refused to obey, and he leaned forward against Krum's broad, solid chest instead.
His cock thought that was a brilliant beginning.
Krum smirked at him. "You haff need of some assistance, Professor?" He asked, raising one bushy eyebrow. "I am thinking this is vanting attention, no?" he said, sliding one hand down between and rubbing Severus's erection gently.
Severus let out a very undignified whimper. "Yes, damn you," he bit out, gasping and trying to thrust into the sturdy hand that held him in its Seeker's grip.
Krum pushed him back against the velvet brocade-draped wall and slid down to his knees, trailing his hands down Severus's chest and thighs. He settled comfortably in front of him, twitched the waistband of Severus's pyjamas down under his bollocks and wrapped one hand around Severus's grateful cock. He stroked him a few times, then gave a firm lick with his broad tongue right across the weeping glans.
Severus bucked against his face. Krum grinned up at him and took him into his mouth. He ran his tongue around the head of Severus's prick, flicking it under his foreskin and across the piss slit. His strong hands held Severus's hips firmly pressed back against the wall, keeping him from thrusting as his prick demanded. He took him deeper, sliding his tongue down along the great pulsing vein and rasping it up and down along the shaft.
All too soon, he let Severus's cock bob free of his mouth and licked his lips. "That vill do for a start," he said, turning Severus around to face the wall. He pulled the pyjamas all the way down to the floor and parted Severus's cheeks with blunt, calloused thumbs. He licked a long, slow line from the base of Severus's spine, all the way down over his arsehole and along his perineum.
Severus gasped at the sensation, then stiffened as Krum retraced the line over and over, shortening the path a little each time, until his tongue was lashing back and forth over Severus's quivering arsehole. Severus gripped the draperies hard and tried to rub his hard, aching prick against them while pushing back onto Krum's tongue at the same time, groaning with need.
Krum took his time teasing his hole, wriggling the tip of his tongue just inside and back out, sucking and nibbling and licking again, before driving it back inside. Despite having come more times than he could remember already, Severus was about to explode.
Krum sat back on his heels and wriggled one finger into Severus's arsehole, sliding it in and out a few times.
Severus growled.
Krum laughed and got to his feet. Severus heard him fumbling with his clothes, and a soft fwhoom! that might have come from the parlour. Krum leaned against him and slid his hot prick along the crack of Severus's arse. "You like that? You vant me to fuck you good, Professor?" he asked, whispering huskily into Severus's ear, his breath hot and redolent of fire whisky and potion. He muttered a spell in a Germanic-sounding tongue, and Severus felt something slippery fill his arse.
"I haff done much fuckings, all over the vorld," Krum panted as he pressed the head of his cock into Severus's arse, "vomen, and men, and vonce even a centaur!"
He felt huge, and Severus gasped and squirmed as the massive cock breached him. He clung to the draperies and tried to accommodate the invader, bearing down in an effort to take it in. His own cock was throbbing and copiously weeping precome, but he could not spare the effort to attend to it. He gritted his teeth and pushed back onto Krum's cock.
"I haff had Bulgarians and English and Russians and an Italian and even Chinese," Krum said as he started to thrust. "And vone time I vas in Patagonia and there vas a vampire that vas a huge Quvidditch fan..."
Krum was rambling on and on, but he had set a good, hard, steady rhythm, and Severus nearly wept in relief as Krum pounded into him. He closed his eyes and thrust his cock hard against the wall on every stroke, and relished the throbbing, burning burst of pleasure in his arse at every forceful thrust.
)*(-)*(-)*(
Harry was more than ready to get out of St. Mungo's. They'd wanted to keep him "under observation," but it felt much more like detention or protective custody, and he was heartily sick and tired of being stared at in awe or poked, prodded and otherwise pestered by one healer after the other.
Ron and many of his other friends had offered to stay and wait with him, but he'd figured the sooner any of them could get out of this place, the better. Even Professor McGonagall had agreed, when he told her to go ahead and leave without him; he might need them on the outside, if he wound up needing help getting out.
There wasn't anything wrong with him, as far as he could tell. Oh, he could still feel the ripples of wild magic coursing through him, a faint reminder of he raging torrent that had rushed through him when he'd tapped into the channel Snape had provided him, to destroy Voldemort.
It felt distinctly odd to realize that Voldemort was gone, and even stranger to realize that he had linked up with the traitorous murderer of Albus Dumbledore to do it.
Except that he hadn't been a traitor...and it hadn't been murder.
He had worked so hard to sustain his hatred, it had really surprised him when it had melted into sorrow and regret at the touch of Snape's mind on his. He'd been practicing Legilimency and Occlumency at Hermione's suggestion, ever since the Headmaster's death. He'd finally found the proper motivation; he'd been determined not to leave himself vulnerable to Snape's mind magic, and he'd studied and practiced as hard as possible.
So when Snape had called to his mind across the battlefield, he'd been instantly suspicious, but he'd also been able to read more than what was on the surface of the man's message. He'd seen the determination and desperation, but he had also felt Snape's grief and self-loathing and somehow, as he allowed himself to connect to Snape, he had known that whatever he might have done, he had been compelled to do, and he would sooner have died himself....except that he was bound to obey Dumbledore's commands.
Harry had managed to take his own swirling anger, grief, and pain in that moment and forge them into a magical flame hot enough to burn the sliver of Voldemort's soul from his own scar. He had used what was left to sever the anchor points of Voldemort's power web. He'd felt no triumph as the magic spun in and destroyed its master, only relief and a vast weariness.
He'd spent the night and most of the day at St. Mungo's now, and he was getting heartily sick of it.
The door to his room swung open, and the Chief Healer and Diagnostician came in, smiling at him. "Well, Mr. Potter, your last set of tests are in, and they're quite promising. I don't see any lingering spell damage, although there is that ripple effect we discussed earlier. I think we'll have another course of--"
"No."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said, 'no.' I've had enough, and I'm ready to go home. If I feel sick, I'll come back, all right? But for now, I'm done, and I'm leaving."
"I say, you can't just--"
Harry arched an eyebrow at the healer, who was getting rather flustered. "I can't? Doctor, I just destroyed the most powerful Dark wizard in a generation. Granted, I had a lot of help, but I really don't think there's anything holding me here. I can send for some of that help, if necessary, by the way. My friends would be only too happy to come get me out of here, if I called them..." he let his voice trail off and dramatically rolled his eyes up and tipped his head back, as if going into a trance.
"No, no, no! I'm...I'm sure that's not necessary," the healer said. "I'll see that your records are properly annotated. You'll come back for some more tests, in...a week, shall we say?"
Harry opened his eyes and smiled at him. "Sure."
He'd wasted no time heading for the lobby and Flooing to Grimmauld Place.
He stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot from his clothes. Professor McGonagall had taken pity on him during her visit and had transfigured the pale green hospital robe into a t-shirt and jeans and the flimsy scuffs into a pair of trainers. They weren't quite right, but a respectable simulation of real Muggle clothes.
He was rather surprised to find the parlour empty. There were some empty butterbeer and wine bottles on the floor, and a rather heavy scent of sex in the air. Harry grinned. Well, at least they hadn't wasted any time in starting the celebrations! There was faint laughter from down the hall, and he stepped to the doorway and started to turn that way, but a soft whimper from nearby stopped him in his tracks.
"Yah, you like it, huh? Like this!"
It sounded a little like Krum, who had come over to England and joined the fight against Voldemort a few months previously, but his voice was thicker and a little slurred.
There was a deep grunt and a wet, rhythmic sound. Harry rolled his eyes. Apparently Krum didn't mind doing his celebrating in public.
"Yah! Take it! Take it all!"
There was another whimper and a deep groan of pain.
Harry turned toward the front entry in alarm. What the hell?
"I haff never fucked a Death Eater before--"
Harry ran down the hall and stopped to stare in horror at the scene before him. Krum had Snape pushed up against the wall and was brutally fucking him. Krum's face was red and his eyes a little wild, and Snape...
Snape was naked, clutching the drapes, his knuckles white with strain as he tried to hold himself up. There were red marks and purpling bruises all over his pale skin. His eyes were tightly shut, his teeth clenched, and his cheeks were wet with tears. He groaned again, and bit off something like a sob as Krum thrust into him with punishing force, slamming him up against the wall again and chuckling sadistically.
"I haff heard the Death Eaters vere alvays fucking like animals - is it so, Professor? You like it so? Hard and fast? I fuck you good, eh?"
Harry lunged across the foyer and grabbed Krum by the shoulders, ripping him away from Snape and flinging him across the room on pure momentum. "You fucking bastard! He's on our side! What the fuck were you doing?!" he screamed at him in outrage.
Krum spun across the space and fell over the stairs, clutching at the black velvet drapery covering the portrait of Walburga Black. She shrieked loudly as the fabric tore. "UNCLEAN PERVERTED SCUM! MUDBLOOD VERMIN! DISHONORING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!"
It was enough to distract Krum. "Shut up, vitch! I haff blood more pure than yours, old voman! And real blood, not paint and oil! Enough for this!" Krum yelled back, waggling his huge, red cock in her horrified face. "Yah! You see! This for your house and your stupid pureblood vays!" He shoved his cock up against her painting and rubbed it back and forth, then began wanking. Walburga's painted face twisted in disgust, then her eyebrows rose and her face purpled as he began coming, spurting all over her canvas.
Harry turned from the ludicrous sight to Snape, who was slumped against the wall, practically hanging by his hands, which still had a death grip on the heavy brocade draperies.
"Snape? Professor? It's...it's all right. It's Harry. Come on...let's get out of here," he said. He drew his wand and cast a quick cleaning and healing spell.
At the tingling touch of the spell, Snape tensed, and then...wailed. Harry winced at the sound, but bent and pulled up the man's pyjamas. That fucking bastard Krum must have pulled Snape right out of his bed! He glared over his shoulder at the Bulgarian, who had finished what he'd been doing and slumped down onto the stairs. He was already snoring.
"I'm sorry, Professor...God, I'm sorry! I...I guess he was drunk. We'll deal with him, I promise! But it's okay, you're going to be all right..." he knew he was babbling, but he'd hardly expected to return to headquarters to find a rape in progress! And he'd never in his wildest nightmares imagined he'd be trying to help Severus Snape through the aftermath of such a trauma. He'd hardly sorted out his own feelings about Snape, but he did know that the man hadn't deserved what Krum had done to him.
"Come on, Professor, let's get you someplace comfortable...and safe." He put an arm around Snape and gently turned him toward the hall. Snape slumped against him and mumbled something. Poor bastard was probably out of his head, Harry thought. He'd have to get someone to send for Madam Pomfrey, but the first priority was to get Snape back into bed and under decent wards, for his own protection and Harry's peace of mind.
Why the hell hadn't someone been watching him? Harry fumed as they made their way toward the sounds of laughter. He thought he'd better see who was supposed to have been watching him, to let them know he was going to move Snape to a safer room - and to tell them to keep an eye on fucking Viktor Krum, the rapist bastard.
He pushed open the door to the kitchen and blinked in surprise.
Well, it was no wonder nobody had come to Snape's rescue. The assembled might of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's army was currently either utterly blitzed or shagging its arse off, or both!
Dean had Seamus bent over the sink and was happily humping him.
The Creevey brothers were sitting amid a dozen empty bottles, giggling and hiccoughing.
Several bare feet stuck out from beneath the table, toes curling and flexing.
Hermione was sitting on Ron's lap, and -- Harry looked away quickly.
Tonks was straddling Remus, who was lying across the door to the pantry with a bottle of brandy in one hand.
Terry Boot was stretched out on the kitchen table, with a broad grin on his face and Luna pouring some amber fluid over his rampant cock. "Hold still, Terry! Do you want to lose this?" She looked up from her task and smiled at Harry. "Harry! How nice to see you!"
"Harry!"
"HARRY!"
"HARRY!"
There was a sudden flurry of activity as people stood up, disengaged, and crawled out from beneath the table. Harry found himself swept into a group hug, and then everyone was kissing him - on the cheek, the nose, and of course, full on the mouth. It was one big blur, as he spun from one friend to another, each hugging and kissing him again, laughing and crying and shouting and holding glasses of wine and spirits and butterbeer to his lips and pounding him on the back...
The joy was infectious, and Harry let himself wallow in it for a while. He tried to keep hold of Snape, but they were pulled apart at some point, and when he finally caught his breath, Harry scanned the room anxiously for him, breathing a sigh of relief to see him leaning against the credenza.
"Hermione...Hermione!" he had to grab her shoulder to get her attention, and when she turned to him, er usually sharp brown eyes seemed slightly unfocused. "Listen, Hermione, I've got to get Snape somewhere...safe. I'm taking him up to my room; I'll ward it so you - and McGonagall, I guess - can get in, but I don't want anyone bothering him. Krum..." Harry paused, suddenly uncertain. Everyone was still beaming, but they were also starting to grope one another again, and it looked like the Weasley twins were pulling Neville back under the table. Something decidedly odd was going on. He felt himself flushing as his own cock twitched. "Well, just be sure to keep Krum away from him, okay? I think he's drunk, so watch yourself around him, too, huh?"
Hermione smiled brightly. "Sure, Harry! And remember what we promised, okay?" She leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. "It really wouldn't do any good anyway, right? Right! Righty-ho!" She giggled and patted his cheek. "So sweet!" She suddenly looked around, blankly. "Ron? Where are you, Ron?" She stumbled away and launched herself at Ron, who wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her passionately.
Something was not right.
Harry shrugged, chalking it up to an excess of celebration. Best get Snape up to bed - he winced as his cock twitched again and the vision of Krum buggering Snape flitted through his mind. God, he must be sick, to even think of getting off on that! He flushed in shame and spotted a tall, icy bottle of butter-rum punch on the table, its sides beaded with condensation. He snagged a cup from the table, poured himself a splash and took a long drink. The cold, rich drink cooled his flaming cheeks and warmed his belly. He poured another cup and pushed his way through the snogging couples to Snape's side.
"Here, Professor, have a sip of this," he said, holding out the cup. Snape looked blearily at him and sighed, but took the cup and drank. "Come on, then, let's get you to bed." Harry eased an arm around him and Snape and led him from the kitchen, down the hall to the main staircase, and up to the next storey.
Halfway up the stairs, Snape stumbled and fell against him. Harry grabbed him with both arms to keep him from falling. Snape looked at him and gave a tired smile. "Potter. You're alive."
It was the first thing Snape had said to him since their connection on the battlefield.
"Yeah," Harry said, trying to ignore how close Snape's crotch was to his, and how the bare skin of his torso felt under his palms. "Here we are, both alive. Voldemort's dead, and here we are. Who would have guessed?"
Snape snorted and slumped against Harry's shoulder. "Albus," he muttered. "Albus was always so soddin' certain..."
"Yeah," Harry felt his throat tighten. "Well, guess he was right, after all." He started back up the stairs. "Come on. That's right, just a few more steps. Easy, now..."
It seemed an awfully long way to his room, and Snape's skin was really hot...er...warm to the touch, and smooth, where it wasn't marked with scars. And Snape...he was resting his head on Harry's shoulder and crooning softly, too softly for Harry to make out the words.
Harry was getting hard. By the time they reached his room, he was drenched in sweat, and his cock was pulsing and drooling precome. He bit his lip, hard, and managed to get Severus inside and stretched out on the bed.
His heart was pounding as he locked and warded the door, using a few extra protective spells and warnings to alert him if anyone came near the doorway. He paused and tried to calm himself, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. It was a big room; he'd make sure Snape was settled, then stretch out on the chaise and sleep there. He sternly told his cock to behave, then turned back to the bed.
Severus had pushed his pyjamas down and was slowly, lazily wanking. He lay on his side, watching Harry, his glittering black eyes never blinking as he stroked himself up and down, up and down.
Harry tried to clear his throat.
Snape swiped his thumb over the purpled head of his cock and licked his lips.
"Potter..."
"Snape...I..."
Snape slid his free hand down and pressed his fingers into his arse as he continued wanking.
"Snape...Severus..."
"Quit your babbling, boy, and get over here," Snape growled at him.
Harry's cock was prodding him in the belly, and his senses were swirling. He tried, tried to turn around and stretch out on the chaise, but Snape closed his eyes and moaned, thrusting his fingers in and out and rubbing his palm over the juicy head of his cock, and Harry was lost.
He stumbled to the bed, stripping out of his transfigured clothes as he went. Snape rolled onto his back and pulled his knees apart and back.
"Yessss..." he hissed, as Harry crawled between his legs and clumsily began rubbing their cocks together.
Snape's scent was intoxicating. Harry leaned down and buried his nose in his former Potions Master's neck, breathing deep. Snape bucked up against him, urging him on. Harry frotted harder against him, gasping as their cocks slid along one another. His senses seemed somehow sharpened; he felt every inch of Snape's skin, heard the pounding of his heart, could almost feel the magic, thrumming just beneath the surface of his skin, about to break free.
"Potter!" Snape's hands were grabbing at him, pushing, pulling - Harry had the vaguely alarming thought that Snape wanted him to stop, but then Snape shifted and Harry found himself with his cock sliding between Snape's arsecheeks.
"Yes...yes, you imbecile! Now!"
Harry's body did not need any more encouragement. He grabbed hold of his prick, lined up and pressed inside, feeling Severus's hot, slippery channel clasping him all the way in. Snape gasped and threw his head back. Harry paused, but Snape moaned, "Move! Move, damn you!" His hands were on Harry's arse, pulling him in deeper.
Harry began thrusting; sliding almost all the way out and snapping his hips to drive back in again. The sense of connection was tripled now; he could almost feel what Snape felt as he fucked him, feel the fullness and friction, the sweet, sensual slide of heated flesh in his own arse, even as he felt his cock sliding in and out of Snape's.
Snape made little gasps and groans as they moved together. Harry wrapped one hand around Snape's stiff shaft and began stroking it in time to his thrusts. Snape threw his head back and thrust his hips up, driving Harry deeper and sliding his prick through Harry's fist.
Harry was panting and dripping with sweat. His bollocks felt tight, almost to bursting, and his cock was hard as steel as he drove it in again and again. He twisted his hips a bit and thrust hard, and Snape gasped, eyes suddenly wide. "Again!" he choked out.
Harry obliged, and Snape's cock suddenly jerked wildly in his grip. Snape gave a hoarse cry and his entire body shook as he came, creamy bursts of come spurting out over Harry's fist and spattering their chests. Harry sped up his thrusts as Snape's cock pulsed out its offering, then felt his bollocks draw up even more, painfully tight, and his own cock spasm as he came, flooding Snape's arse with his come.
They were frozen in place, every muscle taut, until they had both fully spent. Harry pulled out with a groan and flopped onto the bed, panting. Snape eased his legs down to the bed and gave a gusty sigh.
They were both snoring in moments.
)*(-)*(-)*(
Continued in Part 4