End of Obsession (Snarry, Ch. 1)
Title: End of Obsession, Ch. 1
Author: juwel_fic
Rating: PG this chapter; overall NC-17
Wordcount: 1284 this chapter
Pairings/characters: Severus/Harry, also will have Severus/Lucius, Severus/Draco, Severus/Voldemort, hints of Draco/Harry
Summary: Snape has always been obsessed. Now that the war is over, it's time to get over that little obsession.
Warnings: dub con, bdsm, past abuse and rape, biting, blood, collars, breathplay
Author's notes: The idea for this story was originally based on a request from venturous1 for harry_holidays with the request "how about Snape's first time, go as dark as you want to with it, including non-con; contrast with Harry's deflowering." The writing was delayed, however, due to schooling, and now it’s turned into this gigantic thing. Here's hoping for the UST and mind-blowing smut you asked for!
Disclaimer: The characters in this fiction are the property of J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this and no trademark infringement is intended. This is purely for your reading pleasure.
****
Damn Lily Potter, anyway.
If she hadn't been kind, then Snape wouldn't have reached out to her. They wouldn't have become friends. And if they hadn't become friends, then he wouldn't have cared when she'd begun flirting with that obnoxious Potter. He never would have had any reason to come in contact with the arrogant brat. Black would have had no cause to play pranks on him.
Well, scratch that. Black would have found an excuse to play pranks, regardless of the circumstances.
But if Snape and Lily hadn't been friends, then he wouldn't have fallen in love with her. Which meant he wouldn't have cared when Voldemort killed her. He wouldn't have made the asinine judgement to become a Potions professor at Hogwarts and endure the sniggers and spit balls of the odious youngsters or the insufferable begging of its Headmaster or the malicious Legilimency while playing the double agent for Voldemort. He wouldn’t have cared that a certain young boy who was supposed to save the world happened to have her eyes. And his father's bloody unmanageable hair.
Yes, most of all, Snape wouldn't have had to deal with Harry Potter.
All these thoughts and more flashed through his brain as he laid on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, his blood still oozing out of his temporal artery, clinging with a bare thread to life and consciousness. He'd been dead earlier, actually. It had been necessary, in order to save his life. Voldemort would have known otherwise. And stupid Harry Potter wouldn't have revealed himself, wouldn't have taken the necessary memories to go do his bloody necessary heroics.
Despite the anti-venom potion and the wound closure droplets, it had been a near thing. He'd known it would be, whenever Voldemort would set Nagini on him. He'd seen too many others fall to the same fate.
Breathing shallowly, Snape tried to listen for any indications that there were others about. He couldn't afford to underestimate Voldemort's determination to see him dead. But it was silent. He didn't even know how long he had been unconscious, or whether the Dark Lord was alive or dead. Hissing with pain, Severus rolled onto his side. His stomach roiled with nausea from the poison. He fought to keep the contents intact.
He needed somehow to get back to his quarters, and the stockpile of potions there.
Slowly, painfully, Snape pushed himself to his knees. All was quiet outside the shack; shouldn't there still be the sound of fighting nearby? Or was it all over, already? "Tempus," Snape whispered, his hand closing around his old trustworthy wand in his pocket.
"May 2nd, two thirty am," a male voice intoned. Snape groaned. The battle was probably hours past now. He wondered who won.
As if in response to that thought, Severus suddenly heard footsteps coming up the hidden passageway connecting the shack to the Whomping Willow. He gripped his wand hard, ready to attack at the first sign of a Death Eater. When the door opened, he almost cast the spell before he realised who it was. "Kingsley. So Lupin is dead, then," Snape said in a low voice, his fingers relaxing, knees aching from his position kneeling on the floor.
Kingsley hissed, looking him over. "You look half dead." He chuckled. "Which is half better than I expected to find you from Potter's report. I see you managed to survive Nagini." He grew more serious. "Both Lupin and Tonks are dead. And others, but none you'd care about, no doubt." He extended a hand for Snape to take. Reluctantly, Snape did so, allowing the larger man to help him to his feet. Severus swayed there, dizzy but determined not to pass out.
"So gratified to see that the Order still holds true to the words of its members," Snape said begrudgingly. "I need to return to my chambers." Lupin dead; well, he wouldn't have to worry about brewing any more wolfsbane. The man was probably happier dead, rejoined with Black. Snape wished he could be happy, in any state.
Kingsley grunted as he took Snape's weight, helping him towards the door over the uneven floorboards. "Are you going to let people know you survived? You don't have to play the double agent any longer. You Know Who is dead. Potter killed him, just as we all hoped. Or rather . . . the curse backfired. In any case, we're free of Voldemort."
They slowly made their way down the passageway. "Well I should certainly hope Potter succeeded. I practically held his hand the entire way." The sight of Harry crying over him, thinking he was dying suddenly filled Snape's eyes. He cursed under his breath, stumbling. Damn Harry. He had no idea. No idea whatsoever, of the pain he had caused by his stupidity, his lack of faith.
"He mourns you, you know. Are you going to let him know, at least?" Kingsley's low melodious voice echoed in the tunnel. They were nearing the Whomping Willow.
Snape was glad that Kingsley couldn't see his expression in the darkness. He could instil his voice with bitterness, but it was difficult to wipe the expression of longing from his face. "He's better off not knowing. And so am I. I have no inclination to be put through a messy trial or to have people hate or adore me. There's a certain charm to ignominy."
Kingsley opened the trap door and cast the spell to paralyze the tree. Groaning, Snape forced his tired body to keep moving. "What are you going to do, then? You can hardly stay in hiding for the rest of your life. You can't stay at Hogwarts. I don't think Minerva's forgiven you for some of the things you allowed this year, double agent or not," Kingsley said, voice falling to a whisper as they neared Hogwarts Castle and the entrance to the dungeons. By the starlight Snape could see the damage left over from the battle, great holes torn into the rock by giants, blackened smears from Merlin knew what spells being flung. The bodies had been cleared away, at least.
The castle was quiet; undoubtedly all those who had participated in the battle earlier were now asleep. Still, Severus couldn't take any chances. He flipped the little wall sconce, opening up the secret passageway to his own chambers, leaning heavily on Kingsley's arm for support. "I can stay in hiding while I heal. I can let the first reckless flurry of lawsuits and scandals pass me by as the world goes back to some semblance of normalcy. Then, we'll see. I may become a private tutor or potions master for a wealthy family. I may move to Zimbabwe. We'll see." Snape opened the door to his chamber.
Kingsley helped Snape as far as his bed, where more potions were waiting; Snape wasted no time in taking three of them, which would further help him to survive the ravages of Nagini's poisonous bite. "So you're to remain a secret here, then. For now." He sighed, shaking his head. "I'll go along with that wish for the moment. Merlin knows I have enough to contend with at the moment. But you can't live like this forever." He stared at Snape, dark eyes seeming to bore into him. "Even you need the company of another person sometimes." With that, he turned to leave.
Snape waited until Kingsley was out of earshot, and then he snorted, calling up one of the castle's house elves to procure him some food and drink. Kingsley had no idea.
He'd been living most of his life in want of company. Want of it hadn't killed him yet.
Blast that Harry Potter.
***
Chapter Two
Author: juwel_fic
Rating: PG this chapter; overall NC-17
Wordcount: 1284 this chapter
Pairings/characters: Severus/Harry, also will have Severus/Lucius, Severus/Draco, Severus/Voldemort, hints of Draco/Harry
Summary: Snape has always been obsessed. Now that the war is over, it's time to get over that little obsession.
Warnings: dub con, bdsm, past abuse and rape, biting, blood, collars, breathplay
Author's notes: The idea for this story was originally based on a request from venturous1 for harry_holidays with the request "how about Snape's first time, go as dark as you want to with it, including non-con; contrast with Harry's deflowering." The writing was delayed, however, due to schooling, and now it’s turned into this gigantic thing. Here's hoping for the UST and mind-blowing smut you asked for!
Disclaimer: The characters in this fiction are the property of J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this and no trademark infringement is intended. This is purely for your reading pleasure.
****
Damn Lily Potter, anyway.
If she hadn't been kind, then Snape wouldn't have reached out to her. They wouldn't have become friends. And if they hadn't become friends, then he wouldn't have cared when she'd begun flirting with that obnoxious Potter. He never would have had any reason to come in contact with the arrogant brat. Black would have had no cause to play pranks on him.
Well, scratch that. Black would have found an excuse to play pranks, regardless of the circumstances.
But if Snape and Lily hadn't been friends, then he wouldn't have fallen in love with her. Which meant he wouldn't have cared when Voldemort killed her. He wouldn't have made the asinine judgement to become a Potions professor at Hogwarts and endure the sniggers and spit balls of the odious youngsters or the insufferable begging of its Headmaster or the malicious Legilimency while playing the double agent for Voldemort. He wouldn’t have cared that a certain young boy who was supposed to save the world happened to have her eyes. And his father's bloody unmanageable hair.
Yes, most of all, Snape wouldn't have had to deal with Harry Potter.
All these thoughts and more flashed through his brain as he laid on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, his blood still oozing out of his temporal artery, clinging with a bare thread to life and consciousness. He'd been dead earlier, actually. It had been necessary, in order to save his life. Voldemort would have known otherwise. And stupid Harry Potter wouldn't have revealed himself, wouldn't have taken the necessary memories to go do his bloody necessary heroics.
Despite the anti-venom potion and the wound closure droplets, it had been a near thing. He'd known it would be, whenever Voldemort would set Nagini on him. He'd seen too many others fall to the same fate.
Breathing shallowly, Snape tried to listen for any indications that there were others about. He couldn't afford to underestimate Voldemort's determination to see him dead. But it was silent. He didn't even know how long he had been unconscious, or whether the Dark Lord was alive or dead. Hissing with pain, Severus rolled onto his side. His stomach roiled with nausea from the poison. He fought to keep the contents intact.
He needed somehow to get back to his quarters, and the stockpile of potions there.
Slowly, painfully, Snape pushed himself to his knees. All was quiet outside the shack; shouldn't there still be the sound of fighting nearby? Or was it all over, already? "Tempus," Snape whispered, his hand closing around his old trustworthy wand in his pocket.
"May 2nd, two thirty am," a male voice intoned. Snape groaned. The battle was probably hours past now. He wondered who won.
As if in response to that thought, Severus suddenly heard footsteps coming up the hidden passageway connecting the shack to the Whomping Willow. He gripped his wand hard, ready to attack at the first sign of a Death Eater. When the door opened, he almost cast the spell before he realised who it was. "Kingsley. So Lupin is dead, then," Snape said in a low voice, his fingers relaxing, knees aching from his position kneeling on the floor.
Kingsley hissed, looking him over. "You look half dead." He chuckled. "Which is half better than I expected to find you from Potter's report. I see you managed to survive Nagini." He grew more serious. "Both Lupin and Tonks are dead. And others, but none you'd care about, no doubt." He extended a hand for Snape to take. Reluctantly, Snape did so, allowing the larger man to help him to his feet. Severus swayed there, dizzy but determined not to pass out.
"So gratified to see that the Order still holds true to the words of its members," Snape said begrudgingly. "I need to return to my chambers." Lupin dead; well, he wouldn't have to worry about brewing any more wolfsbane. The man was probably happier dead, rejoined with Black. Snape wished he could be happy, in any state.
Kingsley grunted as he took Snape's weight, helping him towards the door over the uneven floorboards. "Are you going to let people know you survived? You don't have to play the double agent any longer. You Know Who is dead. Potter killed him, just as we all hoped. Or rather . . . the curse backfired. In any case, we're free of Voldemort."
They slowly made their way down the passageway. "Well I should certainly hope Potter succeeded. I practically held his hand the entire way." The sight of Harry crying over him, thinking he was dying suddenly filled Snape's eyes. He cursed under his breath, stumbling. Damn Harry. He had no idea. No idea whatsoever, of the pain he had caused by his stupidity, his lack of faith.
"He mourns you, you know. Are you going to let him know, at least?" Kingsley's low melodious voice echoed in the tunnel. They were nearing the Whomping Willow.
Snape was glad that Kingsley couldn't see his expression in the darkness. He could instil his voice with bitterness, but it was difficult to wipe the expression of longing from his face. "He's better off not knowing. And so am I. I have no inclination to be put through a messy trial or to have people hate or adore me. There's a certain charm to ignominy."
Kingsley opened the trap door and cast the spell to paralyze the tree. Groaning, Snape forced his tired body to keep moving. "What are you going to do, then? You can hardly stay in hiding for the rest of your life. You can't stay at Hogwarts. I don't think Minerva's forgiven you for some of the things you allowed this year, double agent or not," Kingsley said, voice falling to a whisper as they neared Hogwarts Castle and the entrance to the dungeons. By the starlight Snape could see the damage left over from the battle, great holes torn into the rock by giants, blackened smears from Merlin knew what spells being flung. The bodies had been cleared away, at least.
The castle was quiet; undoubtedly all those who had participated in the battle earlier were now asleep. Still, Severus couldn't take any chances. He flipped the little wall sconce, opening up the secret passageway to his own chambers, leaning heavily on Kingsley's arm for support. "I can stay in hiding while I heal. I can let the first reckless flurry of lawsuits and scandals pass me by as the world goes back to some semblance of normalcy. Then, we'll see. I may become a private tutor or potions master for a wealthy family. I may move to Zimbabwe. We'll see." Snape opened the door to his chamber.
Kingsley helped Snape as far as his bed, where more potions were waiting; Snape wasted no time in taking three of them, which would further help him to survive the ravages of Nagini's poisonous bite. "So you're to remain a secret here, then. For now." He sighed, shaking his head. "I'll go along with that wish for the moment. Merlin knows I have enough to contend with at the moment. But you can't live like this forever." He stared at Snape, dark eyes seeming to bore into him. "Even you need the company of another person sometimes." With that, he turned to leave.
Snape waited until Kingsley was out of earshot, and then he snorted, calling up one of the castle's house elves to procure him some food and drink. Kingsley had no idea.
He'd been living most of his life in want of company. Want of it hadn't killed him yet.
Blast that Harry Potter.
***
Chapter Two