Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2309396.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Severus_Snape, Albus_Dumbledore, Kingsley_Shacklebolt,
      Remus_Lupin, Nymphadora_Tonks, Bellatrix_Black_Lestrange, Hermione
      Granger, Minerva_McGonagall, Ron_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Hogwarts, Abandoned_Work_-_Unfinished_and_Discontinued, Cross-Generation
      Relationship, Dubious_Consent, Teacher-Student_Relationship
  Series:
      Part 2 of In_Between_Days
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-12-08 Completed: 2007-02-17 Chapters: 22/22 Words: 23008
****** Maybe Someday ******
by atrata
Summary
     Sequel to 'In Between Days,' in which Snape and Harry deal with the
     fallout from Voldemort's defeat.
Notes
     This is UNFINISHED and ABANDONED (sorry!).
***** Chapter 1 *****
                                    Day One
                           Sunday, 1 September 1996

Potter was missing. Severus knew he ought to be relieved, or at the very least
indifferent, but no. No, he was concerned, of all things, as if he didn't
already have enough to be concerned about. It didn't help that the boy's
sidekicks clearly thought he had something to do with Potter's disappearance;
they'd been glaring and pointing and whispering and following him around since
they'd got the news. Something was going on.
Unfortunately, Severus' means for discovering what exactly that something was
had been drastically reduced. Unless it was absolutely necessary, the
headmaster was barely speaking to him; he was still less than pleased over
Severus' treatment of Potter. They'd had a nasty falling-out when Severus
admitted he'd taken the boy, and it had only got nastier when he'd refused to
reveal their whereabouts. Potter's condition when Severus had returned him to
Hogwarts hadn't helped his case any, death of the Dark Lord notwithstanding.
That condition was almost certainly the reason he'd disappeared; he could
hardly attend classes looking the way he did. And although Severus was willing
to concede it may have been his own predilections talking, he did feel Potter
looked rather more like a glowing endorsement for the Dark Arts than a
cautionary tale. Had he put in an appearance, the students, who'd started
gossiping the second it became apparent Potter wasn't at the Sorting Ceremony,
would have told their parents and their parents would have told the Daily
Prophet and the Ministry would have gone into further hysterics and Potter
would have been thrown in Azkaban for his own good. Yes, Severus knew quite
well why Potter was missing.
He also knew quite well that Dumbledore had another reason for hiding Potter,
and it was to keep him far away from Severus. And that was the crux of the
issue. Severus had meant it when he'd said that he was the last thing Potter
needed. To say his relationship with the boy was unhealthy was an
understatement, and the fact that his disappearance had driven Severus to be
sitting in his chambers half drunk and wholly brooding only underscored the
point -- particularly in light of the vast amounts of alcohol it took to get
him even partially inebriated.
The sensible thing to do would be to let the headmaster handle it. The rational
thing to do would be to wash his hands of Potter, let the Wizarding world have
their tainted hero, and move on with his life. Quit Hogwarts and the Order and
Albus Dumbledore and Harry fucking Potter. But there was still a spy to catch,
Severus wasn't done with Hogwarts, and he didn't particularly care to be done
fucking Potter.
But Potter, just to be contrary, wasn't underfoot the one time Severus actually
desired his company. Knowing Dumbledore, which he did, Potter was probably
"recovering" alone in a purple room with pink polka-dots and a treatise on Why
The Dark Arts Are Just Not Cricket. And knowing Potter, which Severus also did,
the boy was getting darker by the second.
Yes, the reasonable thing to do would be to let the headmaster and the rest of
Wizarding world deal with it. It wasn't as if Severus had anything to fear from
Potter, after all. Unfortunately, Potter's utter lack of sense was catching,
and Severus was in the habit of cleaning up his own messes, and he was just
drunk enough to admit that the mess Potter had become was entirely his own.
Sighing, he poured another glass of Craggenmore and wondered how in Merlin's
name he was going to save the blasted boy this time.
                                      ***

Severus couldn't afford to be connected to the rescue mission, but it was easy
enough to manipulate the other two-thirds of Potter's trouble-making trio. A
few smug comments to Malfoy where Potter's hangers-on could hear them. A
detention for Weasley. Potter's spare bit of parchment, strategically placed in
Severus' office where even Weasley couldn't fail to see it. A pressing matter
to attend to which would leave Weasley alone with said spare bit of parchment.
Of course there were flaws in the plan, variables and holes and places where it
might go wrong. Severus thought the parchment was a map, but couldn't be sure;
he cursed his own lack of foresight in not making Potter tell him. And even if
it were a map, it would likely only work if Dumbledore had kept the boy at
Hogwarts. He probably had, but it was possible he hadn't. The protections on
Potter would be strong and difficult to break; Potter's own magic was likely to
be neutralized. Escape would be dangerous.
And then there was the possibility that once he did escape, Potter would knock
on someone else's door. Severus would rather have the Dark Lord rise again than
admit it, but it was that variable which bothered him most.
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
                                   Day Five
                          Thursday, 5 September 1996

Severus almost choked over his breakfast. The headline on the Prophet, in six-
inch letters, was, "YOU-KNOW-WHO LIVES!!" Beneath it was a picture of the Dark
Mark floating menacingly above the ruins of a house in Cornwall, where three
Muggle-born wizards had been tortured and murdered the night before. Severus
looked to Dumbledore, who looked up from his own paper with a slightly raised
eyebrow. Severus shook his head once to indicate he had absolutely no
information about the attack, and then went on staring at the paper, trying to
figure out whom he'd need to talk to. Dumbledore would expect information at
the weekly Order meeting on Saturday, which didn't give him much time.

He ate quickly and went back to his quarters, where he tossed some Floo powder
in the fireplace and went to Borgin & Burkes. He avoided the front of the
store, where Borgin was at the till, and made his way to the cupboard in the
back. He pulled it open and picked up the rusty nail in the back, and felt the
hook in his stomach as he was Portkeyed to a dim, empty room with several
fireplaces, all anonymously hooked up to the Floo network. The room itself
moved daily; portals and Portkeys to it were scattered throughout Britain. He
made his way to the nearest fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and
flung it at the fire. "Bella!" he called, and then waited. It took about thirty
seconds.

"Severus, is that you?" Bellatrix's singsong voice came through the fireplace,
but she didn't stick her head in; neither did Severus. 

He injected his voice with as much annoyance as he could muster, which was
quite a lot. "Someone's been having fun without me."

"I know," she said, her pout coming through loud and clear. "They're very rude,
whoever they are."

"Quite," Severus said shortly. "You will keep me in mind should you decide to
do the same?"

"Of course."

"I shall look forward to it." He cut the connection before she could respond,
checked his pocketwatch, and moved to the next fireplace. He had time for two
more calls before he needed to return to Hogwarts.

"Nott!"

"Snape."

"Been having fun without me?" he snapped.

"If only. Talk to Macnair. It was him and Avery did it. Don't know why the
prats didn't call anyone else."

"Yes," Severus said sourly. "It was hardly sporting of them."

"Well, I may be looking to get something together myself, next week.
Interested?"

"Always," he said automatically. "Have you anything in particular in mind?"

"Not really," Nott said. "I reckon we can just decide that night."

"Well, do try to give me at least some notice. I still have responsibilities at
Hogwarts."

"Right, then. I'll let you know."

Severus cut that connection, too, and pondered whether he should bother talking
to Macnair or Avery. He could guess what had happened -- they'd been drinking
and decided to have a little fun. He doubted there was anything more behind it,
but it had obviously set a dangerous precedent. He frowned and went back to
Hogwarts and an entire day of Hufflepuffs.
***** Day Six *****
                                    Day Six
                           Friday, 6 September 1996

"Miss Granger. I do hope, for your sake, that you have a very good reason for
disturbing me."
It was five minutes before curfew, and Granger's egregiously unsubtle
insinuations were the last thing he wanted to deal with. Three cauldrons had
exploded, one fool of a second-year had been sent to the infirmary, the fourth-
year Gryffindors had staged a mini-revolt that left them all in detention for
the next two weeks, and Minerva had caught two of his Slytherins dueling in the
corridors. All this, and it was only the first week of classes.
"Yes, sir," she said, letting herself in to his office without so much as a by-
your-leave and sitting down presumptuously in the chair opposite his desk.
"It's about Harry."
Lovely. Severus' eyebrow went up of its own accord.
"We can't--"
"Miss Granger," he cut in scathingly, willing her to keep her mouth shut. "Even
you cannot be so foolish as to believe I had anything to do with his
disappearance."
Her eyes narrowed. It wasn't particularly effective. "No, but you want--"
"--him to stay disappeared, yes. Quite. If that's all, then?"
Severus cursed under his breath as a hint of desperation crept into her eyes.
She shook her head. "No, sir, that's not all. We can't find--"
"Silence!" he snarled, shooting to his feet and striding quickly to the other
side of his desk. He grabbed her upper arm, probably harder than necessary -
- not that he cared -- and hauled her to her feet. "That is quite enough." He
dragged her out of his office, round the corner, down a flight of stairs,
through a narrow passageway, and into his chambers, which he swept daily for
listening charms. He knew his office was covered with them, but he never
bothered doing anything about it. "Sit," he said, shoving her in the direction
of the sofa.
He went to the liquor cabinet, where he poured and drank a glass of Glenlivet,
cursing Potter the entire time. The boy was tremendously bad for Severus' life
expectancy.
"Now," he said, finally turning to look at Granger, who was eyeing the room
suspiciously.
"That's Harry's jumper," she said.
"Yes," he snapped. Potter's belongings were strewn about his quarters; Severus
had gone through them when he'd been looking for the map, and hadn't yet put
them away. "What, exactly, do you want?"
He could tell she wanted to ask why he had Potter's possessions, but instead
she gave him a wary look. "Why are we here, sir?"
Severus ground his teeth. He had no intention of explaining himself to
insolent, presumptuous brats. "I believe I asked you a question, Granger."
He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, and resisted the urge
to comment. It was a small comfort to be dealing with someone who occasionally
employed her brain, and he didn't dare interrupt the process. She reached into
her bag and pulled out the missing bit of parchment, which Weasley had stolen
during his detention Wednesday night. Severus sighed and crossed his arms over
his chest. So much for those wheels.
"Miss Granger," he said, before she could go any further. "Listen very
carefully, as I plan to say this only once, which is one more time than I
ought. There are two concepts you need to work on grasping. The first is
Legilimency, and the second is plausible deniability. Now. If you give me any
reason to believe that is anything other than a spare bit of parchment, I shall
have to confiscate it. Do you understand?"
She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly, and then put it back in her bag.
Severus thanked Merlin for small miracles. "Is that all, then?"
"Er, no, sir," she said, clearly still thinking. "I was wondering if I might do
an independent study. In Potions. With you. I'm thinking about becoming a
mediwitch, and I spoke with Madam Pomfrey, and she said Potions are very
important in mediwizardry." The words were coming a bit faster as she built up
steam. "But your regular class is so general, I thought--maybe we could work on
more specific potions."
Severus raised an eyebrow. Not terrible. "You shall have to run it by the
headmaster."
"But it's all right with you?"
"Far be it from me to stand in the way of your burning ambition, Granger. Now
if you would be so kind as to get out."
She stood quickly, flushing. "Yes, sir. Thank you." She turned to go.
"Miss Granger?" When she looked back over her shoulder, Severus glanced at the
clock and smiled nastily. "Ten points from Gryffindor for being out after
curfew."
The glare was much more effective that time.
 
***** Day Seven *****
 
                                   Day Seven
                          Saturday, 7 September 1996

"Severus, Hermione Granger tells me she has approached you about an independent
study."
Severus blinked; the girl worked fast. It wasn't yet noon. "Yes, Headmaster."
"You are amenable to this?"
He lifted one shoulder slightly. "She does show potential."
The blue eyes narrowed, but it wasn't as if Dumbledore could argue with that
statement. "She does," he agreed with a nod. "Very well. You have copies of the
requisite forms, I assume?" Severus nodded. " I shall expect an outline of the
curriculum by Friday."
"Of course, Headmaster." Severus watched impassively as Dumbledore disappeared
in a flurry of purple and green.
 
                                      ***
Severus stared at a blank piece of parchment and sipped his afternoon
Craggenmore, trying to think. He wasn't sure what sorts of enchantments were
protecting Potter, and he therefore didn't know what sort of help Granger
needed. He couldn't very well check out books from the library, which meant he
had to use his own books and cross-reference anything he didn't have so Granger
and Weasley could skulk about in the Restricted Section and fill in the blanks.
He sighed and started scribbling titles. It was going to be a very long
weekend.
                                        
                                      ***
"Severus, how are you?"
"Lupin." He didn't imagine Lupin had any interest whatsoever in how he was
doing, nor did Severus have any interest in telling him. He therefore didn't
bother answering, instead brushing past him into the kitchen of Twelve
Grimmauld Place. He nodded greetings to Minerva and Shacklebolt, pointedly
ignored Moody, and accepted tea from Molly.
Just as Severus sat down in the back, Dumbledore walked in and cleared his
throat. Severus shrank further into the corner; he was more interested in
watching the other Order members than he was in whatever the illustrious
headmaster had to say. For the most part, they all sat forwards in their chairs
and looked attentive. Severus rolled his eyes.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming," Dumbledore started, putting his hands behind
his back and going into lecture mode. "It would seem we have a situation on our
hands. I'm sure you've all been reading the papers. There was a fatal Death
Eater attack on Wednesday, and I am being prevailed upon from all sides to
produce either the corpse of Voldemort or the living Harry Potter." Severus
snorted; that was an understatement. The headmaster was receiving daily Howlers
from what seemed like half the Wizarding world. "Unfortunately," Dumbledore
continued, "I cannot. Voldemort's corpse disintegrated after Harry killed him,
and Harry is still recovering from the battle. It seems the Prophet is no
longer content to take my word on that, and with active Death Eaters about, the
public doubts Tom's demise. We must act quickly. Severus?"
Severus stood and all heads in the room swiveled in his direction. He cleared
his throat. "I'm afraid I don't have good news. The Death Eaters are in
disarray without their leader, but without a body, they cannot be sure he's
dead. They fear he is still alive and have taken it upon themselves to instill
that fear in the rest of the Wizarding world. But there is no organized
movement; the attacks are being planned and carried out on an individual basis,
which is going to make them very difficult to stop. This first one was Macnair
and Avery, and I anticipate at least two more in the coming weeks."
"Wait a minute," Moody growled, his magical eye boring a hole into Severus.
"What do you mean, you can't be sure he's dead? What about your Dark Mark?"
Severus looked at him coldly. "What about it?"
"I thought it gave you lot a connection to Voldemort." The air in the room grew
noticeably thicker as everyone else started looking at anything that wasn't
Severus.
Severus curled his lip. "And?"
"And shouldn't you be able to tell he's a goner?"
"No," Severus answered shortly.
"But--"
"Alastor, that's enough," Dumbledore interrupted him. "The Mark responds to
Dark magic, but a lack of response does not have to mean anything. Has the Mark
been quiet, Severus?"
"Yes."
"How d'you know they're telling you everything, Snape? They don't find it a bit
funny that you led Voldemort to his death?"
Severus ground his teeth. "Must we have this conversation every week? The Dark
Lord told no one of his plans. All he said was to stand by for Apparition
coordinates which never came."
What was left of Moody's mouth curled into a snarl, and Severus snarled back
until Dumbledore cleared his throat. Everyone else in the room continued
looking about uncomfortably.
"Severus, you were saying more attacks are planned?"
He turned his attention back to Dumbledore. "'Planned' is a bit of an
overstatement, but yes. Nott has something in the works for this coming week, I
believe, and I'm certain the Lestranges are up to something as well."
"The Lestranges are always up to something," Tonks muttered with a sigh. "I'll
keep an eye on my darling relatives."
"I'll watch Nott," Shacklebolt put in. "Snape, you'll have to tell me where to
find him." Severus nodded his assent and sat back down, leaving Dumbledore to
elicit reports from the rest of the Order. The only people with good news were
Lupin and Hagrid, who said that the assorted creatures and half-breeds they'd
been contacting were definitely not interested in joining Voldemort's cause
without a Voldemort. If someone actually was trying to rally the forces, which
Severus doubted, that would put a rather large damper on their plans.
Severus kept one ear on the reports and both eyes on the members, occasionally
even prodding at a mind or two. As usual, there was nothing. There weren't even
any shields, so either the spy was unwitting or not present. He sighed and
waited for the meeting to be over so he could get back to his dungeons.
 
 
***** Day Nine *****
                                   Day Nine
                           Monday, 9 September 1996

"Oh! Is this where we'll be studying? Sir?"
The question was entirely too asinine for him to dignify with a response.
Granger glanced at him uneasily and then apparently gave up waiting for an
answer, instead turning her attention to the rest of the room. They were in
Severus' private potions laboratory, a long, narrow room with worktables and
ingredients at one end and two desks at the other -- not that the desks were
apparent under the massive piles of books. Severus was reorganizing his
library, and if the books which found their way here on their way somewhere
else happened to be mostly about wards and barriers and magical constraints,
well, that was hardly Severus' fault.
He handed her a piece of parchment. "Here is the syllabus. Any additional texts
you need should be on the shelves, and you are welcome to them so long as they
do not leave the room and do not end up covered in chocolate, cosmetics, mucus,
or any other manner of sticky substance. You may use the room any time you like
provided I am not in it and it is not after curfew. Have you any questions?"
She skimmed the parchment and shook her head. "No, sir."
"Good," he said. "You may begin by preparing a basic burn balm. The
instructions are on page 258."
She nodded and made her way to the ingredient cupboard.
 
 
***** Day 13 *****
                                    Day 13
                           Friday, 13 September 1996

Severus cursed under his breath at the Daily Prophet. There'd been another
attack: Squibs this time, which made no sense whatsoever. He curled his lip at
the headmaster, ground his teeth in Minerva's direction, ate three spoonfuls of
porridge, and stormed back to his quarters. This time he Portkeyed to an
abandoned piece of Malfoy property and from there to the Floo room.
"NOTT!" he bellowed into the flames, and again after he'd waited about fifteen
seconds.
"Merlin, Snape, just because you don't sleep doesn't mean none of the rest of
us do. Some of us were out late last night."
"I thought you were going to inform me," he said peevishly.
"I tried," Nott said, unconvincingly apologetic. "But you weren't in when I
rang, and we were leaving straight away. Maybe you should make your own fun."
Severus closed his eyes. This was an absolute nightmare. "Perhaps I will," he
said acidly. "Although I should not count on an invitation if I were you."
"Oh, belt up, Snape. Bella's got something up her sleeve for next week. I'll
make sure you're in."
"Very kind of you."
"I know. Now sod off. I'm going to back to sleep." He cut the connection.
Severus swore and Disapparated.
 
 
***** Day 14 *****
 
                                    Day 14
                          Saturday, 14 September 1996

Severus, unable to stand the frenetic atmosphere of Hogwarts as the Quidditch
season kicked into gear, arrived at the weekly meeting early, well before
anyone else. Lupin, obviously surprised, let him in, and Severus helped himself
to a glass of elderberry wine. He eyed Lupin over the table, tempted to say
something to wipe that calm look off his face.
But Lupin said, "I'm worried about Harry," before Severus could think of
anything. Severus' mouth curled into a sneer, and Lupin stirred milk into his
tea. "The headmaster has been remarkably quiet about his condition, but I did
see Harry briefly before he disappeared."
"I trust you have a point."
Lupin went on as if Severus hadn't said a word. "I've been doing a bit of
research into what I saw, and I was hoping you might be able to clear some
things up for me. You were the only witness to the final confrontation, after
all."
"I don't have time for this, Lupin."
Lupin looked around the kitchen innocently, and then at his watch. "Nonsense,
Severus. Kingsley's usually the first to arrive, and I don't imagine he'll be
here for another half-hour." He sipped his tea serenely.
"Allow me to rephrase, then. I don't have any interest in answering your
questions."
"Well, then I suppose it's good I don't actually have any questions, isn't it?
Now, I believe those lines on Harry's body to be the manifestation of some sort
of dark presence inside him. Obviously I don't have the experience with the
Dark Arts you do, but it is my understanding that there is at least a thread of
darkness in each of us."
"Congratulations, Lupin," Severus said. "You have succeeded in demonstrating a
first-year's understanding of a subject you once taught."
Lupin sipped his tea and watched Severus over the brim of his teacup. "It is
possible to tap into that thread on occasion without adverse effects, but to do
it too much, too often, or with too much… ah, insistence -- is dangerous. It
can manifest in unpredictable ways, which is what I believe happened to Harry.
He blew the darkness wide open, and it's consuming him. Sound about right?"
"You are entirely too fond of the sound of your own voice, Lupin," Snape said.
It was obvious Lupin had some punch-line he was dying to deliver; Severus
wished he'd just bloody well get on with it. He sat back in his chair and
sipped his wine, face blank.
"And I was wondering, what on earth would have got Harry so worked up that it
would have sparked that kind of rage? After all, this is the boy who,
confronted with the man who betrayed his parents to Voldemort, spared his
life." Lupin paused to take another sip of his tea. "Then I spoke with
Hermione, who told me about the conversation she had with him, wherein his
biggest concern was that you had betrayed him. And again, I couldn't help but
wonder what sort of betrayal on your part would unleash such anger."
Lupin's tone didn't change, but his eyes went very hard. "Not a lot of options,
are there? I'd imagine sex is a very effective weapon against a teenager."
Severus' hand hesitated, a slight pause as he raised his wine glass, but he
knew he was damned. Lupin pressed his lips into a thin line and then took a
deep breath. "Merlin knows we've never been all that fond of one another,
Severus, but whatever else you think of me, I do know a bit about what Harry's
going through."
"Yes," Severus said, his lip curling. He put the glass back on the table with a
loud clink. "Yours is an heroic battle."
Lupin raised his voice and spoke over him. "And it is my considered opinion
that Albus Dumbledore, well-meaning though he is, doesn't know the first thing
about it." He stood up and gave Severus a long look. "I wish to Merlin there
were someone else who could help Harry, but there isn't. Find him." He leaned
over, palms on the table, and -- clichéd though it was -- the only word Severus
knew for the glint in his eyes was feral. "And do not fuck this up, Snape."
He turned on his heel and left. Severus, his mind strangely blank, drained the
rest of his glass in two long swallows and waited for Shacklebolt, a deep frown
on his face.
He didn't have to wait long. The wolf had good timing; Severus would grant him
that. Shacklebolt showed up not five minutes later. "I thought you were going
to keep an eye on Nott," Severus said, trying not to sound too sullen.
Shacklebolt sighed heavily and sat down. "I was," he said, his deep voice
sounding strained. "But he Disapparated from the pub and by the time I tracked
him, the damage had been done. I don't think there was even a plan. They just -
- went."
Severus sighed as well. "Who was with him?"
"Mulciber and Jugson."
That accounted for the Squibs, at any rate; it had probably been Jugson's idea.
He wasn't exactly prone to rational thought even while in full possession of
his faculties, and he harbored a deep dislike for Squibs. Severus thought he'd
been given one too many detentions with Filch. He nodded and leaned back in his
chair.
"Wotcher, Snape!"
Severus' hand shot out automatically and caught the chair Tonks had just pulled
out and started to knock over. She grinned and sat down backwards, straddling
the chair. "Thanks."
Severus sighed again. "Miss Tonks."
"You were right," she said. "The Lestranges are up to no good."
"Of course I was right," he snapped.
"But I think they're actually planning something, though, none of this spur-of-
the-moment shite the rest of 'em are up to. People've been coming and going all
week. I even saw one of Malfoy's lackeys."
Shacklebolt frowned at that news and looked at Severus. "Have you spoken with
Malfoy?"
Severus shook his head. "Too public." Malfoy was under house arrest, and while
Severus could certainly pay him a visit, there was no way to do so secretly.
The house was watched too closely.
Shacklebolt's eyes narrowed and he drummed his fingers on the table. "I might
be able to help you with that. If you think you need to talk to him."
Severus thought about it. Going to see Malfoy was risky on several levels, but
if someone were trying to rally the troops, Malfoy would know about it. He
nodded. "All right. I'll contact you this week to make arrangements."
Tonks rolled her eyes and turned her hair purple. "I wish they would just let
us arrest the bastard," she muttered. The Ministry was theoretically
cooperating with the Order, but theory was very far from practice, and they
insisted on being officially involved in any raids which might result in
arrests. This brilliant policy had thus far resulted in no arrests whatsoever.
Severus thought the Order should just start killing people, but he didn't think
the situation was dire enough for him to get away with voicing that particular
opinion.
"Or kill him," Kingsley muttered back. Severus' lips twitched, and then Moody
walked in. The air in the room was suddenly much icier, and Severus went to his
corner to watch, listen, and glare at Lupin.
 
 
***** Day 16 *****
                                    Day 16
                           Monday, 16 September 1996

The morning owl post brought Severus a postcard from Majorca. He frowned.
"Who's in Majorca?"
Severus glanced at the postcard, and then up at Minerva. "My cousin Stephen."
"Ah," she said, the corner of her mouth twisting up. "Do you have a cousin
Stephen?"
"Obviously."
The corner of her mouth twisted a little further. "You ought to bring him by
sometime."
"I shall invite him straight away," Severus murmured. He didn't have a cousin
Stephen, and Minerva knew it. The postcard, despite the signature, was from
Malfoy, who was very definitely not in Majorca. Severus did some quick
calculations in his head and determined that Malfoy was attempting to tell him
that security around his manor was inordinately tight and that Severus should
really do something about it.
He sighed and took the postcard back to his chambers, where he burned it and
banished the ashes.
 
***** Day 18 *****
                                    Day 18
                         Wednesday, 18 September 1996

"Sir?" Granger said in that annoyingly obsequious tone which made him want to
fail her on the spot. "I was wondering -- would you write me a pass to the
Restricted Section?" Filch had caught her in there over the weekend, and she'd
missed Monday's session due to detention. Severus had assigned her another to
make up for it.
"No."
"But--"
"No."
She sighed and shoved Medicinal Potions and Magical Remedies across the desk.
"Professor, look," she said, jabbing her finger at the page. "Look at all the
things unicorn blood can do."
He raised an eyebrow. "For Merlin's sake, Granger, unicorn blood? I should
think you, of all people, would have some idea of the kind of price--"
"Yes, sir, I know. But look. In this one--" She slid him Chumsley's Treatise on
Pain and Suffering. His eyebrow climbed a little higher; perhaps he ought to
take another look at the books on his shelves. "--he talks about how some of
the effects might be duplicated. I thought, if I knew more about unicorn blood,
maybe we could work on synthesizing it, duplicating the benefits without the
costs."
"Granger, Potions masters have been trying to synthesize unicorn blood for
decades. What in the name of Merlin, besides your over-inflated ego, makes you
think you will succeed where they could not?"
The girl pouted. "I just thought--"
"You really didn't. Now leave me alone." He picked up his quill and went back
to his marking, sparing half a second to wonder if the unicorn blood had
something to do with Potter, or if she just needed the pass to the Restricted
Section.
Granger slipped out silently, and as soon as she was gone, Severus dropped the
quill and stared blankly at the wall for several long moments. He dragged a
hand through his hair, growling in frustration, and Flooed to Knockturn Alley,
where he hired the first whore he could find. Surely it was pure coincidence
that her looks were as far away from Potter's as was possible, all blonde hair
and brown eyes and soft curves.
 
***** Day 19 *****
 
                                    Day 19
                          Thursday, 19 September 1996

Severus,
Miss Granger has informed me that she requested permission to use the
Restricted Section in pursuit of original research, and that you turned her
down. I was under the impression that the entire point of an independent study
was to allow students to pursue their own ideas, and nurture the processes that
inspire them. In light of this, you might want to re-consider your refusal.
- A.D.
Severus couldn't quite hide the smirk as he wrote Granger a pass and then took
ten -- no, fifteen -- points from Gryffindor for going over his head.
 
***** Day 21 *****
                                    Day 21
                          Saturday, 21 September 1996

"You want them to what?" Moody was in fine form this evening.
Severus sighed and sat back in his chair. "The Ministry is getting in the way
of our work," he said in the tone he reserved for particularly dense first-
years. "I want them to--"
"Oh, I heard you. You want them to stop watching Malfoy. Whose side are you
on?"
"Alastor, please," Dumbledore cut in. He sounded tired. "Kingsley, can any of
your colleagues be counted on to help us?"
Shacklebolt drummed his fingers on the table and nodded thoughtfully. "A few,
yes. And I've already spoken with one of the Aurors watching Malfoy. If you
tell me when you need to go, Snape, he'll make sure his partner doesn't see
you."
"Wednesday," Severus said, pursing his lips. "And what do you intend to do
about the other hundred Aurors watching the place?"
"I'm on distraction duty," Tonks said with a crooked grin. "I reckon my
relatives will be up to something Wednesday night, and I'll be needing loads of
back-up."
Severus snorted. "How many times do you imagine they'll fall for that?"
"As many as they need to," she answered with a shrug. "They can't afford to
ignore me -- what happens if I'm right? I have to be right sooner or later."
Severus was unconvinced on that point, but he let it pass. "And Malfoy's
request?"
Shacklebolt poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and sighed. "I don't know,
Snape. I can pull some strings, but people are going to start asking questions
if I start cutting the surveillance."
"How many strings do you have?" Lupin asked from across the room. Severus
looked over, somewhat surprised. Lupin usually left the Ministry intrigue to
Shacklebolt and Tonks. "You may be able to rearrange them."
Tonks wrinkled her nose at him. "Rearrange the strings?"
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Ah, I see. Kingsley, I believe you said the Ministry
was assigning Malfoy all the Aurors with nothing better to do."
"Yeah. I think there are a dozen there at any given time."
"And how many of them are relatively skilled at what they do?"
Shacklebolt snorted. "Maybe four."
"Rearrange them," Lupin said again. "Fewer people, but better ones. We won't
lose any information, and Malfoy will think Severus has bought him some
freedom."
Shacklebolt nodded slowly. "All right. I can probably manage something like
that. I'll need some time, though. Snape, you're going Wednesday?"
"Barring unforeseen catastrophe, yes." Unfortunately, unforeseen catastrophes
were all too likely these days.
"In that case, we'll stick with the distraction plan. I'll get word to you
before you go, and let you know whether you can tell him you've called off the
dogs."
Severus nodded a bit absently and reached for the firewhiskey, already making
plans for Wednesday night and resolutely not thinking about Potter's absence.
 
***** Day 24 *****
                                    Day 24
                          Tuesday, 24 September 1996

Severus was losing his mind. Against all reason, the gossip about Potter grew
louder and more insistent with each passing day. It was spurred on by the Daily
Prophet, of course; they were having their ridiculous Potter-watch again. The
boy blinked up at him from his morning paper, and between the constant
reminders of the brat's existence and the worry that some of his associates had
decided to "have some fun," Severus was in hell.
It was the first-years who drove him over the edge. The day's paper had re-
printed the tripe about Potter's daring escape from the Death Eater prison, and
when he walked in he found the class discussing Potter's escapades in tones of
deepest awe.
"Professor Snape?" The latest Creevey thrust his hand in the air, eyes wide.
"Did you -- did you know Harry Potter?"
Severus' quill snapped in his hand. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your
insolence, Creevey," he snarled, "and twenty more for your inane gossip. If I
hear one more word about Potter, including so much as his name, in this
classroom, it will be two days' detention for whomever said it."
Creevey's eyes widened and his lower lip trembled as Severus glared down at
him. Severus repeated this threat to all his classes, and felt marginally
better. The whore that night was male, blond-haired and blue-eyed, and when
Severus came, he absolutely did not think of Potter.
 
***** Day 25 *****
                                    Day 25
                         Wednesday, 25 September 1996

Thirteen minutes. Thirteen minutes until Tonks would create her distraction and
call most of the Aurors away from their surveillance of Malfoy Manor. Thirteen
minutes before Plimmswood would disrupt the ward around the Manor and allow
Severus to slip by and Portkey into the house itself. Severus lay unmoving on
the ground and waited as the cold crept into his bones.
He got in without much difficulty. The plan had probably been overcautious,
considering the percentage of Aurors who spent their time playing Exploding
Snap rather than doing their job, but he hadn't got as far as he had by taking
unnecessary risks.
The Portkey dropped him in a bricked-up cupboard, and he took a few moments to
gather himself before drawing his wand and activating the charms which would
open the door. He'd heard from Shacklebolt in the morning, and the string-
rearrangement plan would be put into effect shortly, so he had a good reason to
be there. Still, Malfoy was not aware he was coming, and he wasn't quite sure
that his presence would be welcomed. He took a deep breath and began casting.
Three charms later, and the wall shimmered and then disappeared, leaving
Severus alone in Malfoy's study. He considered rifling through the desk, but
discarded the notion quickly. He doubted the security on the room was anything
he couldn't handle, but he mightn't be able to handle it in a matter of
seconds; Malfoy might appear at any moment. Perhaps he would have more time
later.
But he had no such qualms about rifling through Malfoy's liquor cabinet, and he
helped himself to a glass of Macallan 21. Swirling the scotch in the glass, he
sat down to wait.
                                      ***

"What do you mean, he's gone?" Shacklebolt looked -- quite uncharacteristically
-- gobsmacked.
"I cannot be more clear. Lucius Malfoy is not in that house." Severus had
searched every inch of it. "It would appear he's been gone for quite some
time."
"Are you sure?"
Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Of course you're sure," Shacklebolt muttered. "Bloody hell."
"Indeed."
Shacklebolt sighed and rubbed his temples. "Did you at least find anything
useful?"
"All sorts of cursed or otherwise dark artifacts which would be highly useful,
were I so inclined. But no information, no." That wasn't quite true, but
Severus needed time to piece together what he had found. Right now it was all
nonsense scribblings, and it was only a hunch which told him that time might
prove the scribblings important.
"Bloody hell," Shacklebolt said again.
"Indeed." Severus ran a hand through his hair and went back to his dungeons,
where he stopped long enough to stare like an imbecile at one of Potter's
jumpers. But enough was enough, and he Flooed from there to Knockturn Alley.
 
***** Day 27 *****
                                    Day 27
                           Friday, 27 September 1996

For all that Severus had managed to banish the ghost of Potter's presence from
his classroom, he had little control over the rest of the castle. Malfoy's
disappearance had lent a dangerous edge to the gossip of the last few days; the
latest round of idiocy had Potter and Malfoy working together to carry out the
most recent Death Eater attacks. An alternate theory, and one that was
mercifully Malfoy-free, was that Potter had dispatched the Dark Lord using
less-than-savory methods, and had run from facing the consequences of his
actions. Severus listened to the rumors with thinly veiled contempt; as if
there were savory methods for killing. Perhaps they'd expected the brat to have
hugged Voldemort to death.
He binned the paper in disgust and went back to writing a particularly nasty
quiz for the fifth-years when he felt an unwelcome itch in his left forearm.
Frowning, he pushed up his sleeve and saw that the Mark had darkened slightly.
The itch was faint but persistent, and did not improve his disposition. That
afternoon, he dunked Ackerly in his cauldron for adding an entire dragon
toenail to his invisibility potion when the instructions clearly called for
half that.
The whore that night was female, tall and too thin, with dyed red hair and bad
teeth. But her eyes were green, and Severus fucked her from behind.
 
***** Day 28 *****
                                    Day 28
                          Saturday, 28 September 1996

Severus did not arrive at the Order meeting early, and yet the wolf still
managed to corner him.
"What do you want, Lupin?"
"An update. Have you made any progress in locating Harry?"
Severus' lip curled of its own accord. "I don't answer to you."
"No?" Lupin was all innocence. "I'd be happy to ask around and see if anyone
else would like to oversee your project."
Severus bit back his first reply and instead raised one eyebrow. "Please do,"
he said, keeping his voice as mild as Lupin's own. "But you know I'm his only
chance, and asking around is only going to destroy it."
Lupin's eyes sparked and he took a step forwards. "You will--" But whatever he
was going to say was interrupted by Molly, banging into the kitchen and setting
several kettles to boil.
"Tea, boys?"
"Please," Lupin said immediately.
Severus glared at him. He'd wanted tea. "No, thank you."
The other Order members began trickling in shortly, most looking haggard and
drawn. It had been a long few days, and there was still no sign of Malfoy.
Shacklebolt was one of the last to arrive, almost 20 minutes late.
"Sorry, Albus," he said, sitting down next to Severus. "I was chasing down
another dead lead."
"You've found nothing, then?" the headmaster asked.
"Loads of it," Tonks said, with only half her usual amount of irritating cheer.
"Severus?"
"The same," he said shortly. He'd spoken briefly to several Death Eaters, but
all claimed they hadn't heard from Malfoy in weeks. He couldn't count on any of
that, of course, but it was going to take time to uncover any lies.
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "And yet you don't think he's behind these attacks?"
Severus pretended to think about it. "No. There's nothing particularly
nefarious about the attacks, headmaster. Some Death Eaters go out drinking, get
bored, and decide to kill some Mudbloods. There's no planning. There's no
sophistication. There's no point."
"Nice group of friends you've got, Snape."
Severus paused to glare at Moody, but then continued. "If Malfoy were involved,
Nott or Lestrange would have said so. And there would be some purpose to all of
these attacks beyond fear-mongering." He wasn't sure there wasn't, but
presenting the Order with too many options led precisely nowhere.
"Was there anything in the house?" Tonks asked. "We found enough evidence to
throw him in Azkaban for the rest of a Dementor's life, but nothing that'll
help find him. Don't suppose you had better luck?"
Severus shook his head. "I found nothing conclusive." He glanced at Shacklebolt
in time to see him frown.
The room was silent for several long moments as everyone except Severus tried
to formulate a plan. He knew what he needed to do; the problem was that he was
always being called to these blasted meetings, which left him no time to do any
of it. He stood up.
"If that's all? I really must be going."
Moody snorted. "You got somewhere more important to be?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. Headmaster, good evening." He nodded and swept out
of the room before Dumbledore could tell him to stay. He didn't bother going to
his dungeons, and instead went straight to Knockturn Alley.
 
 
***** Day 31 *****
                                    Day 31
                            Tuesday, 1 October 1996

"Sir, I'm having trouble with something."
Severus arched an eyebrow. "Synthetic unicorn blood not working out quite the
way you'd hoped? Imagine my surprise."
Granger lifted her chin defiantly. "Would you -- if I leave you my notes, could
you take a look?"
"I waste enough of my time on this, Granger."
"Yes, sir, but -- if you happen to have any free. I'd appreciate it."
Sighing, Severus waved a hand at his desk. "Leave them, then. But I can't
promise I'll get to it."
"Thank you, sir," she said, digging in her bag for her journal and leaving it
on the corner of his desk. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Spectacular."
She left, and he reached for her journal and flipped through it quickly. The
first quarter of it contained notes on unicorn blood, its properties and
effects, and other ways to achieve the same results. It looked to be copied
verbatim out of several texts, and Severus snorted at the amateurish effort it
represented, in both potions and subterfuge. But it didn't look as though
Potter actually needed the unicorn blood; that, at least, was a positive sign.
The rest of the journal was far more interesting. It appeared that Potter was
protected by some sort of powerful runic barrier, and the arithmancy to get
round it was ridiculously advanced. He conceded that Granger wasn't doing a
terrible job, but she was moving very slowly, and several key calculations were
off. Frowning thoughtfully, Severus took the journal back to the office in his
quarters.
He grabbed a few advanced arithmancy books off the shelves which focused on the
field's convergence with ancient runes, dogeared the relevant passages, and
then rummaged in his desk for his charmed quill. He opened Granger's journal
and had the quill trace a page of her writing, and then set about fixing her
equations in her own hand.
As an afterthought, he took his own quill and shredded her 'work' on unicorn
blood. He took the lot back to the lab and then returned to his quarters, where
he made the important discovery that he'd gone completely round the twist. He
caught himself staring at Potter's hairbrush and thinking about polyjuice, and
he cursed viciously and Flooed to Knockturn Alley. He paid no attention to what
the whore looked like.
 
***** Day 35 *****
 
                                    Day 35
                           Saturday, 5 October 1996

Severus frowned at the clock on his desk. It was nearly time for the weekly
Order meeting, and still he had nothing to report. The small stack of parchment
he'd stolen from Malfoy's study had yielded no information on his whereabouts,
none of the other Death Eaters were talking -- and, indeed, all had seemed
equally surprised about Malfoy's disappearance -- and his usual sources had
nothing to tell him. Severus very much doubted any of the other Order members
had fared better than he had, which made the evening's meeting wholly useless.
"Snape?"Avery's voice called out from his fireplace. "You there?"
"I am." Snape could not recall ever having been grateful to hear Avery's voice.
"Twilight and bronze, if you're interested," he said, and then cut the
connection. Severus took a deep, calming breath before going to the trunk in
his bedroom and digging out the cloak and mask. The mask, as always, was
shockingly cool in his hands, and he heard Potter's voice in his head calling
him names. He ground his teeth, cast a Shrinking Spell, and went as quickly as
he could to 12 Grimmauld Place.
He should have expected to find only Lupin.
"Severus, I--"
"Not now, Lupin. Get word to Shacklebolt. Avery is planning an attack. Now. I'm
going to the Bronze Medallion. He should know it." He turned on his heel and
left.
 
                                      ***

When he got to the pub, he was surprised to find only Mulciber waiting for him.
He frowned and looked around.
"I thought this was Avery's show."
"You're late," Mulciber said, leaning in close. Severus put some effort into
ignoring the fetid breath. "He's there already. Some Mudbloods -- whole family
of 'em -- moved in."
Severus felt ice in his veins. "Unfortunate," he said, lips stretching into an
ugly smile. "Moved in where?"
Mulciber shrugged. "Near one of Avery's cousins, I think. Are you coming?"
Severus inclined his head. "Lead the way."
 
                                      ***

Too late, he thought, eying the situation through his mask. Far, far too late.
The man had been beaten to death and his wife was barely alive -- tied naked to
a tree, surrounded by a handful of jeering Death Eaters. Her body was a
battered, bloody mess, but it was clear her torturers were just getting
started.
"Oi!" Jugson. He waved at Severus and Mulciber from his place in the circle.
"Come have some fun."
Severus drew his wand. The Order would never make it in time.  Her injuries
were likely fatal. He shouldered his way into the circle and gave the woman a
long look. She was probably tall, had probably been quite pretty a few hours
ago. But her face was swollen, streaked with blood and mud and tears, and her
dark eyes were blank with pain and fear. Severus was dimly aware of the others
laughing as his hand clenched on his wand.
"Avada Kedavra," he said, and closed his eyes as the light hit her and the
darkness rushed through him. He gave himself over to it for a split second and
then opened his eyes, shaking. It was too much like an orgasm. It was too much,
period.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Avery demanded. "I wanted to have my way with
her!"
Severus took another steadying breath and looked at him coldly. He did not look
at the woman -- the body. "Your continued insistence on sullying yourselves
with these vermin is beyond me. Everyone is better off with them simply dead
and gone. Sticking your prick into such filth will only destroy it, and you."
"Merlin," Mulciber said, and Severus could almost hear his eyes rolling. "I
forgot what a purist you are."
"I thought we were all purists," Severus shot back. "What are we doing here?
Are there more?"
"Daughter," Jugson said. "Young, but I didn't see her."
Severus frowned. "I'm checking the house again. Your observational skills leave
something to be desired." They needed to be there when the Order got there,
which really ought to be any second. He started making his way towards the
house, and a split-second later, the air was crackling with the pops of
apparating Aurors and the sounds of spellfire.
Severus ran.
 
***** Day 36 *****
                                    Day 36
                            Sunday, 6 October 1996

"I don't think he had to kill her," Moody growled.
"Alastor," Dumbledore cut in sharply. Severus sat in the high-backed leather
armchair, legs crossed, head back, eyes closed. He didn't move. "I'm sure he
did what was necessary."
Necessary, Severus repeated to himself, and the voice in his head was Potter's,
dripping spite.
"We got there," Moody said, sounding petulant. "We could have saved her."
"I don't think so," Shacklebolt said. "Did you see her? She wouldn't have
survived. He did what he needed to do. But we did get Avery and Mulciber, so it
wasn't a total loss."
Severus sat very still in the chair and concentrated on breathing evenly until
he could go.
 
***** Day 37 *****
                                    Day 37
                            Monday, 7 October 1996

Severus stumbled home from Knockturn Alley at half-three in the morning, as
he'd done each morning for weeks. He drank Oban until it was time for
breakfast, and then he quaffed a Sobering Solution and a Keep-Awake Potion and
went to the Great Hall. His morning mail carried a missive from Filch, asking
him to kindly stop assigning quite so many detentions, as there was not enough
time to oversee them all.
If the headmaster noticed he was self-destructing, he gave no indication; it
was only Granger who dared approach him. She strode into the lab after supper,
sat primly at her desk, and raked her eyes over his disheveled frame. "Are you
feeling all right, sir?"
"That is none of your concern," he said tightly, not looking up from the latest
travesty that passed for academic achievement amongst Gryffindor third-years.
"It sort of is, sir," she said hesitantly. "I have to come here and work with
you. And you're--" She reddened and trailed off.
He fixed her with a hard stare, silently daring her to continue. "I'm?"
She shook her head and sighed. "It'll be soon, sir."
Severus felt his limbs go cold at the quiet words, felt his hands curl into
fists. "Get out."
She looked at the clock and frowned. "But--"
"GET OUT!!"
She ran, leaving Severus to drown in his rage and self-loathing. That some boy
-- that Potter, of all boys -- could reduce him to this pitiful mockery of a
human being was intolerable. He growled and overturned his desk, sneering in
satisfaction as the racket echoed through the dungeons. He moved on to
Granger's desk, and then the worktables, overturning and toppling anything he
could. As the last of the clatter died down, Severus sank to the floor and
dropped his head to his hands.
"This has to stop," he muttered.
"I could not agree more."
Severus resisted the urge to groan. He was not interested in dealing with the
headmaster. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked up. The headmaster
summoned Granger's chair and sat down in the wreckage, eyeing Severus gravely.
"You see now, Severus, why I had to hide the boy."
"I have never questioned why you hid the boy, Headmaster."
"Not aloud, no."
"Nor in any other manner." He understood the reasons, just not the course of
action.
"He's better off where he is."
Severus sneered. "I'm sure you're right. I'm sure the itch in my forearm has
nothing to do with him."
The blue eyes sharpened and moved to the arm in question. "Why didn't you say
anything?"
"I needed to be sure it wasn't just me. I only confirmed it this weekend."
Severus stood stiffly and righted his own chair, rubbing his eyes with the
heels of his hands and sinking down tiredly. "Where is he, Albus? I do hope you
at least had the sense not to stash him someplace alone."
"He has visitors."
"Ah. Visitors." He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. "He was half-
dead when I took him, you know." Dumbledore merely looked at him over the tops
of those ridiculous spectacles. "Starving. Deranged. Probably delusional.
Depressed."
"And now he is no longer starving," the headmaster said calmly. "Instead he is
deranged, delusional, depressed, and dark."
"And getting darker. With no one there to rein him in..."
"Forgive me if I doubt your ability to rein him in. Sometimes I go so far as to
doubt your interest in doing so."
"Yes, because I went through all this trouble to rid myself of one Dark Lord
only so I could serve another. Really, Albus."
"I know. But Harry stays where he is," Dumbledore said. Severus felt him
prodding at the edges of his mind, and he shoved a mental eyeroll in the
headmaster's direction and strengthened his shields. "This behavior must stop,
Severus. I think you will agree I have been remarkably tolerant thus far, but
parents have started to complain."
Severus was frankly amazed it had taken as long as it had. "If the students
cannot handle the harsh realities of--"
"Enough. Whatever frustrations you have, be they against me or yourself or
Harry, you will cease taking them out on the student body. Is that clear?"
Severus bit the inside of his cheek. "Yes, Headmaster." He sounded remarkably
like Potter.
"Good." With a curt nod, Dumbledore stood and left Severus in the shambles of
his lab. Sighing, Severus began to clean up, wondering if he could take the
damages out of Potter's hide.
 
***** Day 39 *****
                                    Day 39
                           Wednesday, 9 October 1996

Granger and Weasley were up to something. They were nervous and distracted and
Severus spent the day watching them closely and loathing the squirming
sensation in the pit of his stomach he dimly recognized as hope.
He hadn't gone back to Knockturn Alley since he'd wrecked his lab and
Dumbledore had come to lecture him; instead he'd thrown himself into repairing
the place. But that night he was every bit as distracted as Granger and Weasley
had been during the day, and he gave up just before midnight and retired to his
chambers, where he resolutely determined to drink no more than two glasses of
scotch.
He sipped the amber liquid and stared into the fire for two hours, resisting
the urge to shatter his glass against the stone. This was insanity. Even if
they were rescuing Potter, Severus had no idea where the brat would go. He'd
probably just go back to his dormitory to celebrate and discuss the latest
Quidditch happenings. Severus eyed the bottle of Glenlivet and thought about
pouring a third glass, and then he was startled by the prickling of his wards
followed quickly by pounding at his door. He forced himself to set the glass
down carefully and walk calmly to the door. The pounding continued, faster and
more frantic, and he yanked the door open with a glare.
Potter was standing outside his quarters, wild and angry, and the air around
him was so thick with power that Severus almost dropped to his knees. Instead
he froze and stared, took in Potter's torn clothing and messy hair, the pale
skin dark-veined and crawling, the skewed spectacles over glass-green eyes wide
with nothing Severus wanted to think about. Potter stared back, blinking and
breathless, his small body tense and wary and looking very much like a caged
animal.
"Something I can help you with, Mr. Potter?"
Potter twitched slightly. "You were supposed to come get me."
"Was I."
"Why didn't you help them? You left me there."
Snape narrowed his eyes and moved away from the door, opening it wider. "I am
not your knight in shining armor," he snapped. "Come inside. It's not safe for
you to be seen."
"Like you care about what's safe for me! You LEFT ME THERE!" The boy's magic
started churning ominously, and Severus felt desire twist through his stomach.
Potter, he could see, was already hard, prick straining against his jeans.
"As I do not know where 'there' is, I can hardly be blamed." He took a step
forwards. "I will drag you in here if I must."
Potter's lip curled. "Think you can?"
Severus snarled and brought up the gaes, felt it settle heavily over him. "I
do." He braced himself for whatever magic the boy might unleash, but when his
arm shot out, he realized Potter's energy was far too unfocused for a fight. He
grabbed a fistful of dark hair, hauling Potter inside and crushing their lips
together.
Potter bit down hard on Severus' bottom lip as Severus kicked the door shut and
trapped Potter's body against it. Potter tasted like Potter, bittersweet and
coppery from whatever blood they shed between them. The darkness was new, and
Severus could taste it, rich and heady on his tongue. He pushed closer to
Potter's thrashing frame, waiting for the moment when Potter stopped fighting
and started -- there. Potter's arms wound round his neck and he grabbed
fistfuls of Severus' hair, moaning around his tongue. Severus slid a thigh
between Potter's legs and Potter bucked his hips, rubbing his erection against
Severus' leg. Severus' free hand found its way to Potter's arse, kneading and
pulling him closer, and it was all Severus could do not to spell the boy's
clothes away and pound into him then and there. Instead he just kissed him
hungrily, licked at every inch of that hot mouth, and stood still as Potter
ground furiously against his leg. Severus clutched him tighter as his movements
sped up, and then Potter threw his head back with a hoarse cry. His hips jerked
a few more times, and Severus leaned forward to capture his lips again as damp
heat spread against his leg.
Potter's body relaxed slowly, the tension draining out of him, and he put some
effort into kissing Severus back. It went on and on, the movement of their lips
and tongues becoming slow and languid and new, until every inch of Severus was
aching and straining with need for the ridiculous creature in his arms. Kissing
Potter woke a hunger deep inside him that a month of whoring hadn't sated, and
Severus had to pull away before he came like Potter had, in his pants in a
minute flat, rubbing clumsily against whomever was handy. He dropped his head
over Potter's shoulder, letting it fall heavily against the door, and tried to
calm himself. Potter turned his head slightly and licked at the curve of
Severus' jaw.
"Hi," Potter said quietly.
Severus snorted.
"Sorry, sir," Potter said, burying his face against Severus' neck. "I get--"
"I know."
He felt Potter's smile against his skin and the boy twisted, rubbing his
stomach against Severus' aching cock. "Will you?"
Severus pulled back and raised an eyebrow. "Will I what?"
Potter bit his bottom lip, and Severus leaned in to replace Potter's teeth with
his own. "Tell me," he whispered, biting a little harder and then soothing away
the hurt with his tongue.
"I missed you," Potter said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Fuck me." Severus
almost came right there, but his wards prickled again.
"Later," he growled in Potter's ear, delighting in the shiver that ran through
the smaller body.
"But--"
He kissed Potter quickly and then pulled away. "We're about to have company."
"Can't you tell them to bugger off?" Potter pressed his body against Severus'
again. Severus mustered as much of a glare as he could and caught both of
Potter's wrists in one hand, pinning them to the door above his head.
"It's likely the headmaster," he said.
"Fuck the headmaster," Potter spat, green eyes flashing, and Snape raised an
eyebrow.
"I'd rather not," he said dryly. Potter wrinkled his nose, a face somewhere
between disgust and amusement. "Now, please tell me you have not spent the past
month brooding and tossing off, and have instead managed to give some thought
to what it is you wish to do now."
"I haven't been--" He blushed and broke off, and Severus raised an eyebrow.
Interesting. No wonder he'd come so quickly. "What do you mean, what I want to
do?"
There was a knock at the door, and Severus' hand clenched on Potter's wrists;
he felt the thin bones moving under his skin. "It's not a difficult concept,
Potter. Do you intend to stay here, return to classes, become an Auror, chase
shiny objects, move to Siberia? What do you wish to do?"
"Oh. I don't--" He paused, and there was another knock at the door, more
insistent. He looked uneasily over his shoulder. "Can I stay with you, sir?
Until I'm... better?"
Bugger. Severus set his jaw, nodded once, and let go of Potter's wrists. "In
the bedroom. I will deal with the headmaster."
"But I don't--"
"Go." He jerked Potter away from the wall, drew his wand, and pointed it at the
hidden door on the back wall of the sitting room. "Acclaro."
Potter shot him a resentful look and then trotted for the bedroom door. Severus
watched it close and disappear behind him, and considered and rejected the idea
of casting an Imperturbable Charm on it. He ran a hand through his hair and
pulled open the door.
"Headmaster," he said, stretching his mouth into a thin smile. "Do come in."
"Thank you," Dumbledore said. Severus held his arm out toward the sitting area,
and the headmaster brushed past him and sat in one of Severus' battered
armchairs.
"Tea?"
"Something stronger, I think."
Severus snorted softly and he walked to the liquor cabinet and poured two
glasses of cognac. He handed one to the headmaster and sat in the chair across
from him.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said, sipping serenely and watching Severus over the
top of his spectacles. "Harry seems to have gone missing."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "He's here." He glanced at the clock. "He came to me
half an hour ago."
"I see," the headmaster said, taking another sip. "And what do you intend to do
with him?"
Severus bit back three replies involving buggering the brat senseless. He took
a rather large gulp of cognac and muttered, "I've not got the first bloody
clue." He took another sip. "He's asked if he can stay with me until he
recovers."
"Ah," Dumbledore said, leaning back in the chair. "I'm not sure that's wise."
"Of course it's not."
The white eyebrows went up slightly. "But you've already given permission."
Severus saw himself standing there caught, helplessly ensnared by Potter's need
and power and desire. "Yes."
The headmaster took another sip of his cognac. "How is he?"
"Angry. Lost. Frightened. Confused. Angry. I don't have very much information
about his condition. We didn't discuss it."
The eyebrows went up quite a bit higher. "Didn't discuss it? What have you been
doing for the past half-hour?"
"Calming the boy down before he brought down the castle. Where'd you put him,
Albus? He's in worse shape now than he was when he left."
Dumbledore sighed heavily and set the glass down on the small table next to the
chair. "There is a room in the West Tower, long unused. It was put in place for
students who delved too far into the Dark Arts; they were to spend time there,
and it was supposed to neutralize their magic and leech the darkness out of
them, leaving their overall powers intact."
Severus frowned. He sincerely hoped there was more to the headmaster's plan.
But all he said was, "It probably wasn't equipped to handle someone of Potter's
power."
"I did think of that. I strengthened it considerably, but Harry may be even
stronger than I had thought."
"Probably," Severus said, still frowning into his drink. "He's darker now than
he was when he went in, certainly."
It was Dumbledore's turn to frown, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully,
stroking his beard. "He was better when I checked on him yesterday. Perhaps
with more time."
Severus sighed heavily and finished the rest of his cognac in two long
swallows. Potter wasn't going anywhere. "I don't think, at this stage, there is
any way to remove the darkness entirely. He just needs to learn to accept it
and control it."
The blue eyes took on an icy gleam. "I hope you're quite pleased with yourself,
Severus. There were other ways."
"My pleasure has nothing to do with it. The Dark Lord is dead, Albus. Nothing
else matters. Not what pleases me, nor Potter's miserable state of being. I
should think you, of all people, would see that."
"There are lines we ought not cross, Severus, lest we become that which we
stand against."
Severus stood and turned to refill his glass, rolling his eyes when his back
was to the headmaster. "Potter is not going to become the next Dark Lord."
"Perhaps, but I do not think it wise to count on the restraint of a sixteen-
year-old boy."
Severus sat back down and looked at the headmaster incredulously. "You have
been telling that child since he was eleven years old that he needed to grow up
and save the world. You gave him precisely no information on how to go about
it, and yet were more than willing to count on him and his idiocy to manage.
And now, against all odds, he has managed, and you're not willing to count on
his restraint?"
Some of the old humor crept into Dumbledore's eyes. "I was under the impression
that he killed Voldemort by getting very angry and blowing him up."
Severus pursed his lips. "Well. Yes."
"And this is supposed to convince me of his restraint."
Severus snorted reluctantly. "You sound like me."
Dumbledore smiled sadly and then sighed. "Severus, I am willing to try this. If
you wish to attempt to help him, I will not stand in your way. But you have to
promise me that you are actually trying to help him, and that you will come to
me if you need anything. And that you will let him come to me if he needs
anything. I shall want updates regularly, and I will need to speak with him at
some point. Soon."
Severus swallowed the rest of his drink and nodded stiffly. "And I have leave
to treat him as I see fit?"
"Within reason, yes."
He nodded again. "I will need an additional bedroom, then. And I will likely
re-cast the Fidelius."
Dumbledore nodded, sitting forward in the chair and picking up his forgotten
glass of cognac. He drained it quickly and set it back down. "Very well," he
said. "My best to Harry, and good luck to you both."
Severus stood and saw him to the door. It had only just closed behind him when
Potter came flying out of the bedroom, eyes angry. Severus' own eyes narrowed
and he crossed his arms over his chest.
"I can't believe you just did that," Potter snarled. "Bargaining over me like
I'm some kind of-- of--"
"Piece of meat?" Severus supplied mildly. Potter's mouth opened, but Severus
held up a hand before he could say anything further. "Spare me, Potter. You
asked if you could stay. You're staying. What would you have possibly had me
do?"
Potter took another few steps into the room, bringing him even with the liquor
cabinet. "I thought you would--" He looked away, blushing furiously.
Severus felt his lips curl as understanding dawned. "Ah," he said. "Declare my
undying love and devotion and tell the headmaster to, as I'm sure you would put
it, fuck right off? Have a big Gryffindor battle over you? Tell him you're
staying because I want you to stay and that's that? Well, I don't, Potter.
You're staying because you've nowhere else to go, and because I'm the one
person you can't kill."
Severus imagined he could hear Potter's teeth grind as he grabbed the nearest
bottle off the bar and smashed it against the corner, sending rather expensive
cognac and shards of glass scattering over the stone floor. He held the broken
neck out in front of him and took a few more steps towards Severus. "I don't
have to do it magically, you know."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "No, I suppose you don't," he said, with a great
deal more calm than he was actually feeling. "Expelliarmus. Accio." The broken
bottle flew into Severus' hand and he lunged at Potter, shoving him hard
against the wall with the bottle at his throat. "You will not threaten me in my
own home," he snarled, trapping Potter's body with his own and pressing harder
on the bottle, forcing Potter's head back against the wall. "You will not ask
me for something and question the manner in which I provide it. You will not
resort to this infantile, idiotic behavior just because something does not go
exactly the way you'd hoped. Is that clear?"
Potter was breathing heavily through his nose, his teeth bared, his eyes
shooting sparks. Severus wanted to devour him whole. He pressed closer and felt
Potter's lower body twitch. "Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Potter spat.
"Good," he said, and dashed the bottle to the floor. He stepped back slightly,
boots crunching on broken glass, and tugged Potter's shirt up and over his
head. "Now," he said, running his hands down Potter's sides, over his still-
prominent ribs, to where his jeans hung low on his narrow hips. "I believe we
have unfinished business."
Potter's lip curled as he glared up, but he didn't protest when Severus tugged
him forward, bringing his hips in contact with Severus' own. Fighting with
Potter had had its usual effect on Severus' prick, and he sucked in his breath
as his erection came to rest against Potter's stomach. There was an answering
gasp from Potter, and then there was a flash of something in his eyes, and he
wrapped his arms around Severus' neck, pulling roughly as he kicked at Severus'
feet. Severus started to sway, fighting to remain upright as Potter fought to
pull them both to the floor. Severus was stronger, but for some
incomprehensible reason, Potter wanted it very badly, and Severus pitched
himself forwards, putting one hand down to catch them both and wrapping his
other arm hard around Potter. He rolled quickly so Potter landed on top of him
instead of the other way round, and grunted as the glass embedded in his back.
Potter made a small, hurt noise in the back of his throat and tried to roll
them over, but Severus grappled his arms to his sides and didn't move. Potter
finally gave up and sat back, straddling Severus' stomach, and looked down with
an expression somewhere between a glare and a pout.
"What was that about?" Severus snapped, his hands hard on Potter's thighs to
hold him still.
Potter went red and looked away, his throat working soundlessly. "I wanted-- I
wanted it to hurt," he finally managed quietly.
Severus dropped his head to the floor with a sigh and closed his eyes. This was
going to destroy them both.
"What?" Potter demanded.
Severus opened his eyes again. "Two things," he said, his tone deliberately
bland. "First, if you want something from me, you're to ask. Second, why in
Merlin's name have you suddenly decided to embrace your inner masochist?"
"Er. I don't know, sir. I just. Lately I've been thinking about it. Hurting."
"And you thought getting buggered on broken glass would be--" He broke off,
cursing inwardly. "Merlin save us both. You have lost what mind you had. Get
up. Go into the bedroom."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you going to--"
Severus arched an eyebrow. "Hurt you? Right now, Potter, I'm tempted to break
every bone in your body. Go."
Potter paled noticeably but stood up and went to the bedroom, glancing
apprehensively over his shoulder. Severus dropped his head back to the floor
and stayed right where he was, breathing deeply and focusing on the pain in his
back until he didn't want to break every bone in the idiot's body.
He finally got to his feet, wincing, and went into the bedroom. Potter was
sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking small and lost, but much calmer than
he had earlier.
"You have my stuff," he said.
Severus looked about the room and realized Potter's trunk was in the corner. He
nodded and went to sit on the edge of the bed. "The charms were still active
from the first house. All your belongings are here, save your spare bit of
parchment."
Potter tensed. "My what?"
Severus turned and quirked an eyebrow. "It was stolen from my office."
"You-- you went through my stuff?" Anger flared briefly in his eyes, and then
died. Severus waited, eyebrow still quirked. "Oh. You did help them, didn't
you?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, and the ghost of a grin flashed across
Potter's face. "Now kindly remove the glass from my back." He turned, and felt
the bed shift as Potter clambered over to the edge.
"Sorry," Potter muttered. "Er. Should I just pull it out? You won't bleed to
death?"
"We can stanch the bleeding after the fact." He didn't actually expect there
would be blood; not much of the glass had actually made it through his robes.
"I know how you love to play nursemaid."
Potter's hands started moving over his back, plucking out pieces of glass. "Can
I drug you?" Severus heard, rather than saw, the grin.
"Not a chance, Mr. Potter."
It didn't take him long to finish, and when Severus stripped out of his robes
and shirt, leaving his trousers on, his back was scratched badly but it was
nothing that wouldn't heal on its own. He closed his eyes as Potter trailed his
fingers over the scratches, following them shortly with soft lips and a rough
tongue, as if he were trying to lick the hurt away.
Severus allowed the hesitant exploration, gritting his teeth and forcing
himself to be still until he felt Potter's arms wrap around his chest, his
tongue hot against Severus' neck. He reached back and tangled one hand in
Potter's hair, holding him where he was for several long moments. Potter
pressed against his back, and Severus leaned into it, dropping his head back
and turning to kiss him. He'd never been that fond of kissing, really, but as
he slid his tongue into Potter's open mouth, felt Potter's lips moving hungrily
against his, he thought he might be able to do it for hours. He leaned back
further, tugging Potter around and on top of him, and lay back on the bed.
Potter followed him, sprawling on his chest, hands tangling in his hair, tongue
exploring his mouth.
"Potter," he said, biting at his lips, "you're wearing far too many clothes."
"Make them go away, then," Potter said, biting down Severus' jawline and
rubbing his hips against Severus' own. "Yours, too."
Severus slid his hands over Potter's back and inside the waistband of his
jeans, over the bare skin of Potter's arse. "You little slut," he growled in
Potter's ear, rolling them both over and making short work of the button and
zip. Potter's swollen cock strained into his hand. "No underwear?"
Potter arched and gasped, dark head tossing against the sheets. They were
sideways on the bed, but Severus couldn't be arsed to move.
"You said-- you said it only got in the way."
Severus' insides twisted strangely, and his hand clenched hard around Potter's
cock. "Whose way have you been easing all this time?"
"What? I-- no," he panted. "No one's."
Severus cursed himself a jealous fool, his hand gripping harder. "Oh, fuck,"
Potter gasped, shaking his head frantically. "Please, Snape. There's no one.
Just you. I-- god." His body twisted, his hips thrusting up into Severus' hand.
"Snape, please. You have to fuck me."
Severus bristled and let go, throwing himself off the bed and standing at its
foot, glaring. "I don't have to do anything, Potter," he snarled.
Potter shook his head and sat up, still breathing heavily, and looked at him
with startled eyes, wide with confusion. "Oh," he said, drawing his knees to
his chest. "I know. I didn't-- I just." He looked away, and his voice was very
small when he said, "It's been a month. Why won't you fuck me? Is it-- is it
because I'm not-- I don't know what I'm doing?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "You've somehow managed to forget how to bend over
in the month you've been away?"
Potter's shoulders twitched slightly, and he dropped his head to his knees,
dark hair spilling down to cover his face. Severus clenched his jaw and took a
deep breath. "Potter, you're an idiot," he said, his voice rough. "Look at me."
He heard Potter swallow before raising his head slowly, his eyes hurt and
uncertain behind his glasses. Severus let the desire he was feeling creep into
his own eyes, and his hands moved to the buttons on his trousers, stripping out
of them slowly and letting Potter see his erection. He'd been hard since the
brat walked in the door, and his prick was aching almost painfully. Potter
watched, rapt, and desire slowly replaced the uncertainty in his eyes. Severus
had to bite his own tongue to keep from groaning at the sight of it. He stepped
out of his trousers and curled his hand around his cock. "This, Potter, is for
you. Kindly have your self-esteem crises elsewhere."
Potter bit his lip. "You don't care that I'm covered with these weird lines?"
Severus snorted and managed not to say, quite the opposite. Instead, he raised
an eyebrow and stroked himself slowly, eyes roaming over Potter's body. Potter
licked his lips and shook his head a bit distractedly, eyes on Severus' cock.
Severus' breath hitched in his throat. Enough was enough.
"Strip," he said, walking quickly to the bedside table for the lubricant.
Potter scrambled out of his jeans and tossed them on the floor, and when
Severus turned back to the bed, he was sprawled naked and waiting. Severus had
to close his eyes and catch his breath, and then he reached for Potter's
ankles, pulling him to the edge of the bed.
He lifted one of Potter's legs up to his shoulder, planting a kiss on the side
of his knee and hunching over slightly to make it less of a stretch. Potter
watched, eyes dark and hungry, and Severus dipped two fingers into the lube and
ran them over Potter's exposed hole. Potter's mouth fell open, a breathy moan
escaping his throat, and Severus circled the small opening with one finger. He
grit his teeth and pressed one finger inside the ring of muscle, and Potter
gave another of those strangled gasps, his eyes fluttering shut.
"Just fuck me, Snape," he panted. "I don't-- just, please."
He didn't need to be asked twice. Severus pulled his finger out and then slid
two back in, stretching Potter slightly before pulling out and coating his hand
with more lubricant. Potter waited impatiently, writhing against the
bedclothes, hands fisting in the sheets. Severus exhaled sharply when his slick
hand curled over his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last long.
He took a deep breath and positioned himself at Potter's entrance, pushing
slightly, stretching him open. "Look at me while I fuck you," he rasped. They'd
rarely fucked face to face, and he wasn't sure where the urge had come from.
But then Potter's eyes, dark and wild, flew open and locked on Severus' as he
slid inside with agonizing slowness.
It was almost unbearable, sinking into Potter's body and watching every little
thing the boy thought or felt flicker through his eyes. It was worse knowing he
himself was unable to hide anything; knowing Potter knew it; knowing Potter was
watching. Potter's breathing was shallow and uneven as he dug his heels into
Severus' back, pulling him deeper inside, and no, Severus was never going to
last. The intensity was terrifying, but he could see it was killing Potter,
too, and Severus took some comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only one this
was going to destroy. He pulled out almost all the way and pushed back in
roughly, his lips peeling back from his teeth. Potter made one of his soft
animal noises and squirmed, moving his hips to get the angle he wanted. Severus
allowed it, thrusting harder and faster into Potter's tight body.
Potter was whimpering, his hands drifting to his cock and then flying away
again as he fought for control; Severus knew his own face was slack with
mindless pleasure and streaming with sweat as he pounded into Potter, the
tension building inside him and taking over everything else until he exploded
far too soon, coming so hard his vision went gray and his body shook. He heard
a low groan tear out of his throat and he finally closed his eyes, too
overwhelmed to keep them open. Still shaking, he collapsed on top of Potter,
who writhed weakly underneath him, and Severus reached a hand between their
bodies to grasp Potter's cock. He pulled once, twice, and then Potter was
moaning and spilling himself over their stomachs, arms and legs wrapped tight
around Severus' body.
Severus lay on top of Potter, breathing into his neck, not caring that he'd
softened and fallen out or that he was half on the bed and not at all
comfortable. Potter eventually pushed weakly at his shoulder, and Severus
sighed and lifted himself up onto his elbows. Potter sucked in a lungful of air
and smiled sleepily, not quite meeting his eyes. Severus, some modicum of self-
control restored, bent his head and kissed Potter quickly before standing on
weak legs and summoning a towel from the washroom. He wiped them both off and
then slid into bed, smirking as he pushed Potter out of the way with his legs.
Potter shot an entirely unconvincing glare his way, and then sat up and
stretched, cat-like. Severus considered making him come until he passed out.
Potter kept looking at him and then looking away, fidgeting, clearly wanting to
say something but not very willing to break the silence or the mood of whatever
had just passed between them. Severus waited, eyebrow raised, and finally
Potter cleared his throat and said, "You told Dumbledore you wanted another
bedroom for me. Do I have to sleep there?"
Severus rolled his eyes. "How many times must we have this conversation?"
The small frame twitched slightly, one of those strange defensive movements he
made. "Then why'd you even bother getting another room?"
"Potter," Severus sighed. "My quarters are sufficiently spacious for one
person, two if they get along. You and I, in case you have forgotten in the
past month, do not. In fact, we regularly try to kill one another. I thought it
might be wise for you to have a place of your own." He paused. "There are also
appearances to think about. The headmaster would be less than pleased, and I
imagine your fan club is going to want to visit."
The green eyes went wide. "You'll let them?"
"I hate to think of the explosions they would cause if I did not."
Potter beamed at him, and Severus closed his eyes against the sight and turned
on his side. Potter clambered under the covers a moment later, sliding under
Severus' arm and resting his head on the other, his back curled close against
Severus' front. Bodies, Severus thought for the millionth time, pulling Potter
closer, should not fit together so well. He buried his nose in Potter's hair,
inhaled deeply, and waited for the boy's breathing to even out.
 
***** Day 40 *****
                                    Day 40
                          Thursday, October 10, 1996

Severus was strangely unwilling to wake Potter up in the morning; he'd got all
of two hours of sleep. He went quietly about his morning routine, showering and
dressing in near dark, and then he went and made up a bed on the couch,
rumpling the sheets and pillow so it looked like someone had slept there. That
finished, he went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, carding his fingers
through Potter's mess of hair.
Potter yawned, stretched, and curled himself around Severus' waist.
"Potter." Potter whimpered. Severus rolled his eyes and shook the boy's
shoulder. Potter finally sat up and blinked sleepily in Severus' direction. He
rubbed at his eyes, frowning, and summoned his glasses. "Where are you going?"
"Breakfast, followed by class. I realize it's been a very long time since you
actually used your brain, but others make the attempt on a daily basis."
Potter wrinkled his nose. "Yeah. But I thought--"
"I would put my life on hold? Hardly. I shall return when I can. You're welcome
to anything you find in the kitchen, so long as it is not flammable."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he looked away. "When are you coming back?"
Severus frowned. "As I said, I will return when I can."
"When will that be?"
Severus reached out and grabbed Potter's chin, pulling his head up and around.
"Talk."
Potter tried to jerk his head away, but Severus clenched his fingers harder,
holding him in place. Potter glared at him. "I just don't want to be alone
anymore."
Severus felt his hand clench and he let go Potter's chin before he broke it.
"Were you alone in that room all this time?" he asked, his voice tight.
Potter nodded miserably.
"I was told you had visitors."
"Just him."
"How often?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Every few days."
Severus ground his teeth. "Potter, I cannot stay here today. Too many people
know you're here." Potter's shoulders twitched and he looked up quickly, eyes
flashing, and got out of bed. He grabbed his jeans off the floor.
"Look, Snape, if you don't want me here, I'll go somewhere else, all right?"
"You've nowhere else to go."
Potter dragged his jeans up his hips. "I'll think of something."
Severus stood up and moved to block the door, folding his arms over his chest.
"You're not going anywhere, Potter," he snapped, and braced for the inevitable
outburst.
"What do you WANT from me? There was that-- that SCENE in the infirmary, and
then you left and I woke up in that PLACE by myself and you didn't come to get
me. If you wanted me, you would have come to get me! And then I come here and
you've got my stuff all over the place, and you don't even ARGUE when I say I
want to stay. But you don't do anything but insult me and tell me you don't
want me here and I'm only here because I haven't anywhere else to go and I
don't-- I can't-- I can't keep DOING this, Snape. I can't." He stormed to his
trunk and started digging around, presumably for a shirt.
Severus watched the dark lines coming to life underneath Potter's skin, visible
evidence of his agitation, and he walked slowly to where Potter was kneeling in
front of his trunk. "Potter. Stand up."
Potter shot to his feet and whirled, his teeth bared, looking like he wanted to
punch Severus in the face, which he probably did. Severus reached out a hand
and caught the back of his neck, pulling him slowly forwards into an embrace.
Potter struggled briefly but half-heartedly and eventually relaxed, winding his
arms around Severus' waist and resting his head against Severus' chest.
"You need to sleep," Severus murmured into Potter's hair. "Let me give you
something that will help."
Potter tensed. "You want to knock me out so you can leave. You can't get out of
here fast enough, can you?"
Severus let go and glared down at him. "And is it any wonder with you
misinterpreting everything I say and acting like a spoilt child?"
"I'm not--"
Severus was suddenly exhausted. "Potter, wait," he said, dragging a hand
through his hair with a sigh. "Stop, and listen to me. I imagine you will find
this difficult to believe, but I have reasons for the things I do and say,
although I concede those reasons are sometimes terrible and often far from
obvious. But you must realize that I am not in the habit of inviting people
into my home to stay."
Potter gave him a long, strange look and didn't say anything. Severus crossed
his arms over his chest.
"You got two hours of sleep. You have been under quite a lot of stress. It
disturbs you to be alone. I have other responsibilities I must attend to. There
is no one who can take my classes on such short notice. There are people who
know you are here who will become suspicious were I not to put in an
appearance. Let me give you something to help you sleep. It will solve every
one of those problems, and I shall be here when you wake."
Potter crossed his own arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. "Promise."
Severus felt his lips curling into a sneer. "You don't believe a word I say,
Potter. Would promises help?"
"Then tell me you want me here."
"Why? So you can doubt me?"
"You'd have to give me something to doubt."
"You seem to be doing fine on your own. Accio," he snapped, focusing on the
potion he wanted. He grabbed it out of the air and thrust it at Potter, who
took the flask out of his hand automatically. "That's the potion," he snarled.
"I'm late for breakfast. Drink or not, stay or go. As you like."
                                      ***

Classes that morning were utterly interminable, and Severus was in foul mood.
He was angry at himself for having somehow got so entangled with that
infuriating, intoxicating child. He was angry with said child. He was furious
with Dumbledore. Gryffindor ended the morning seventy-five points lower than
they'd started it.
Despite the argument with Potter, he hadn't particularly wanted to go anywhere,
but he didn't think he could have missed breakfast without arousing suspicions.
He could and did skip lunch, however, going straight to his rooms and half
expecting to find them destroyed and Potter gone. But they weren't, and Potter
wasn't. He had taken the potion and was sleeping, sprawled diagonally over the
entire bed, covers twisted low around his hips, chest moving in a deep, even
rhythm. Severus shook his head at the relief he felt, and then spent an entire
minute trying to come up with a reason not to fuck the boy awake.
He didn't manage, but as he shrugged off his outer robe, Potter stirred,
stretching and yawning. He sat up, ridiculous hair managing to stick out in all
directions despite its length, and blinked at Severus. Severus blinked back.
"Lunch," he said shortly.
Potter yawned again and offered him a shy grin, but there was more than a hint
of mischief in his eyes. "Having me for lunch, sir?"
"Tempting," Severus said dryly, and then remembered why he couldn't. "But
first, the Fidelius. I assume you are staying?"
Potter swallowed and nodded, slightly awkward. "I wasn't under it before."
"The charm does require your cooperation, Potter. Would you have given it?"
Potter's lip curled. "Not to anyone else," he said.
Severus' stomach lurched strangely. "On top of that," he said, swallowing, "had
the world at large got word that you were hiding in the West Tower of Hogwarts,
they would have blinked, shrugged, and moved on with their lives. If they get
word you are sharing my quarters, it will be a rather different story." He drew
his wand and frowned. "Although if the Ministry gets wind of your condition,
you're likely to end up in Azkaban. And... well, frankly, Potter, it's as much
for my benefit as yours. There is quite a lot happening right now."
Potter skittered quickly out of the bed. "Okay."
Severus bit back his lecture about simply saying, "okay," and stood across from
him. He concentrated on the remnant strings of the charm within himself, trying
to follow them back to Potter. As it had been more than a month since he'd
lifted the charm, it was slightly more difficult than it had been the last time
he'd re-cast it, but he was relieved to find he managed. Casting the Fidelius
the first time was complicated and difficult, but after that it was relatively
simple; he spared a brief moment to wonder how Potter would react when he
realized he'd not cast the full charm on Severus. He brushed the thought aside,
murmured the incantation, and made a mental note to have Potter work on his
Latin as he mumbled the response.
"Name your Secret Keeper," he said.
Potter didn't hesitate. "Severus Snape."
Severus felt the magic settle into his bones, felt his body absorbing Potter's
presence, felt one more tie to Potter solidifying around his chest, felt
himself go light-headed and weak in the knees. He solved that problem by
kneeling and smirking up at Potter, who looked down in surprise. "Now. You said
something about having you for lunch?"
He spent a reasonably tolerable afternoon with the taste of Potter's come in
his mouth.
It went downhill when he looked up after his last class to see Granger and
Weasley standing in front of his desk, glaring mutinously. "What do you want?"
"Where is he?" Weasley demanded.
Severus glared at Granger. "I thought we discussed this."
"Discussed what?" Weasley looked between them, and Severus just raised an
eyebrow. Granger went red. "Hermione? What's he on about?"
"Enough. Both of you, come with me."
He led them back to his quarters, where there was no sign of Potter in the
front room or the dining area. Severus flicked his wand at the couch, folding
the pillow and blankets of the makeshift bed and moving them to one of the
chairs. "Sit," he said curtly. "Touch nothing. In fact, don't so much as look
at anything."
He walked to the hidden door to the bedroom, not particularly happy with anyone
who wasn't Potter knowing where it was, and stepped through. Potter was in a
pair of flannel trousers, curled up in the corner armchair with a big stack of
newspapers he must have taken from the study. Severus scowled as Potter looked
up at him with a smile.
"Where did you get those?"
"In there," he said, nodding his head towards the study. "They were right on
top of one of the chairs. I thought it would be all right. I didn't touch
anything else."
Severus walked over and glanced through the doorway. His eyes swept the room
quickly, but he didn't see anything amiss. He turned with a grunt. "Your
friends are here."
Potter shot to his feet, newspapers quickly forgotten. "Ron and Hermione?
Brilliant!" He started towards the door.
"Mr. Potter," he snapped, halting the boy in his tracks. "You're not going
anywhere until you're properly dressed and not reeking of sex. On top of that,
I need to tell them you're here before going out there would do you any good."
"Oh," he said, blushing.
Severus examined his face. He looked better than he had; his veins were still
dark, but less so, and he seemed more himself. "Well?" he said. "Shall I tell
them, or throw them out on their ears?" He hoped his tone made it clear which
option he preferred.
Potter rolled his eyes. "Oh, tell them. I'll be right out." He crossed the room
and draped his arms around Severus' shoulders. "Don't be too mean to them,
okay?"
Severus sneered. Potter leaned up and kissed him until Severus gave in and
kissed him back. It didn't take nearly so long as it should have.
He let himself back out of the bedroom, and saw that Granger and Weasley were
staring at him from the couch. "Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger." Severus said
sharply. Their eyes widened in surprise. "Harry Potter is here, in my
quarters."
"Er, okay," Weasley said, frowning. "Why'd you tell us that way?"
Severus narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Potter is under the protection of the Fidelius
Charm. There is no other way."
"And he let YOU be his Secret-Keeper?" Weasley looked outraged. Severus bared
his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. "Professor?"
"Need I remind you I acted in that capacity all summer?"
"Then where is he? Sir?" Weasley was still suspicious, but Granger was watching
Severus with a speculative look which he didn't like at all. He curled his lip
in her direction, and she looked away quickly.
"He'll be out shortly. He was sleeping."
Weasley's face turned a rather gratifying shade of red. "He was sleeping? Is
that-- he's in your bedroom!"
"Well, it's not like Snape needs it," Potter said from the doorway, grinning.
"You know he wanders the halls all night handing out detentions."
"Harry!" His friends sprang up from the couch to greet him. Granger caught him
in a hug; Weasley beamed but hung back a bit awkwardly.
Severus scowled. Potter's idea of dressing properly was apparently an overly
large t-shirt and that same pair of flannel trousers, and his idea of getting
cleaned up consisted of a half-hearted scourgify.
"This is all very moving," he snapped. "But I shall be in my study. Do not
touch anything." He turned to go back through the bedroom door.
"Just ignore him," he heard Potter mutter under his breath.
He froze and turned slowly. "Mr. Potter," he said dangerously, "what did I tell
you about being in my home?"
Potter tensed and frowned. "Er," he said. Severus ground his teeth and took a
step forwards. "Oh! No, sir. I didn't mean to ignore what you said. Of course
we won't touch anything. I just meant-- we should, they should ignore your
tone."
"And which tone is that?"
The brat shot him a falsely sweet smile. "The one where you're a great
pillock."
Granger and Weasley inhaled sharply, and Severus felt his face harden. "Mr.
Weasley, Miss Granger, excuse us. Mr. Potter, a word."
He grabbed Potter's upper arm and hauled him back into the bedroom, slamming
the door and then slamming Potter against it. "Whatever rights you think you've
earned by taking my cock up your arse, boy, you'd best reconsider." Potter's
eyes sparked. "I will not have you speak to me with such disrespect, not in
front of students I still have to teach. Particularly troublemaking Gryffindor
students who already despise me and who regularly undertake to make my life a
living hell. It undermines my authority, my position, and compromises my
safety. And your safety, might I remind you, hinges on mine. You can -- and do
-- say whatever you like to me in private, but when there are other people
about, I am still your professor, and you will treat me appropriately. Do you
understand?"
Potter bared his teeth and threw himself towards Snape, hands fisting in his
robes. "You know, sir," Potter spat, "It's not my fault they despise you, is
it? If you weren't such a great fucking prat all the time, maybe your life
wouldn't be so miserable!"
Severus grabbed Potter's thumbs and twisted backwards, breaking his grip, and
then shoved him back against the door. He closed one hand over Potter's throat
and squeezed, leaning in to growl in his ear. "We are not going to do this
right now, Potter." He squeezed a little harder, felt Potter's thready pulse
beneath his hand. "You are going to apologize, you are going to go out there
and tell them you apologized, and if you insist, we will continue this
discussion at a time in which there are not two insufferable, nosy do-gooders
standing two feet away attempting to listen to our every word." Potter's neck
fit easily in his hand, and he squeezed once more before letting go and taking
two steps back.
"If you cannot hide the extent of our association, Potter, that association
will end."
That got Potter's attention. He sucked in oxygen, his face blotchy, and rubbed
at his neck. "You wouldn't."
"Awfully sure of your charms, aren't you?" Severus said, his voice cold, and
knew he'd pay for it later. That particular insecurity was one he'd never
intended to instill in the boy, and yet there he was. Damn the brat. "Try me."
Pain flared briefly in Potter's eyes before the anger took over again, and he
bared his teeth. Fortunately, he wasn't willing to press the issue. "Sorry,
sir," he spat, and then he jerked the door open, stepped through, and slammed
it behind him.
Still fuming, Severus went and sat in the corner armchair to listen to as much
of their inane babble as he could stomach. The door was sound-proofed in one
direction, allowing him to hear anything that went on in the other room while
ensuring no one out there had heard a thing. He crossed his legs and wished for
a drink.
"Er, did you hear any of that?" Potter asked.
"No," Granger said. "But we're not blind, Harry. Your neck!"
"Erm, yeah. Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have said that. I apologized."
"You apologized to that greasy git for telling the truth?" Weasley. Severus
ground his teeth.
"Harry," Granger said slowly. "I know you were with him all summer, but I don't
know if-- I mean, if he's hurting you--"
"He's not," Potter said. "He's... complicated. It's complicated. But we're
fine, really."
"But Harry, he shouldn't be... touching you," Granger said. Severus snorted,
amused despite himself. "I know he's not as awful as everyone says. I've been
taking an independent study, and he's been... well, all right. But--"
"You're both mental," Weasley cut in angrily. "Snape is not all right. He's a
greasy bastard and he keeps taking Harry away."
"Ron--"
"I'm sorry, mate, but you were with him all summer. We thought you'd been
murdered! And then we find out you weren't, you were just KIDNAPPED, and he
brings you back half-dead and he's all you can talk about. You get sent away,
and me and Hermione get you out without any help from him, and what do you do?
You run straight here. Look at you. And you're defending him. It's sick,
Harry."
Through the Fidelius, Severus felt Potter's agitation growing. He sighed and
stood. Perhaps Potter hadn't been quite ready for visitors.
"Leave it, Ron," Potter snapped. Definitely angry.
"No! I'm not going--"
"Ron!" Granger cut him off. "Be quiet. I think there's -- Harry, what's wrong?"
Severus pulled the door open and his eyes flew to Potter, standing in front of
the fireplace facing the couch, skin crawling and eyes angry. "Visiting hours
are over," he said to Granger and Weasley, who were staring at Potter with
poorly disguised fear. "Go." They stood up slowly. "Now."
Weasley went a little red around the edges. "What'd you do to him? When can we
see him again? Why--"
"RON!" Potter yelled. The air around him crackled. Weasley and Granger paled.
Severus moved a few more paces into the room, bringing up the gaes and putting
himself between Potter and his idiot friends.
"Calm yourself, Potter," he snapped over his shoulder. He turned to glare at
Granger. "Get him out of here."
She nodded and tugged on Weasley's arm. He bared his teeth in a truly pathetic
attempt at intimidation, but let her drag him off. Severus strengthened the
wards behind them, and then slowly turned to face Potter.
Severus studied Potter carefully; the boy's mood swings were in danger of
leveling the castle. Merlin knew why he couldn't listen to Weasley disparaging
Severus when he'd been doing it himself not five minutes prior. Something had
to be done, and soon, but Potter needed to calm down first. Severus couldn't
tell from his face what he wanted, and the Fidelius wasn't giving him much to
go on, either; it could only tell him that Potter was upset. He took a step
forwards, Potter's wary green eyes watching him closely.
He reached a hand towards Potter's face and carefully removed his glasses,
floating them to the nearest table. Potter's eyes fluttered shut, and Severus
took another step forwards and began to trace the lines under Potter's skin
with his fingers. They were slightly warm to the touch. "Do they still hurt?"
he asked quietly. Potter tensed and shook his head. Severus took another step,
closing the distance between them, and slid his hand around to the back of
Potter's neck. The muscles there were in knots, and Severus dug his fingers
into them, rubbing the tension away. Potter dropped his head to Severus' chest
with a low groan and Severus' free hand came to rest on the small of Potter's
back, holding him close. Potter's arms slowly came up to wrap round Severus'
waist, and they stood like that until Severus felt the tension drain out of
Potter, out of the air around them.
"Go lie down," he said into Potter's hair. "I'll be there in five minutes."
Potter's shoulders slumped and he stepped back and looked up at Severus, his
eyes huge and strangely frightened. Frightened was not a particularly good look
on Potter, and Severus leaned in and kissed him softly. "Perhaps four minutes."
Potter's lips twitched and he turned to go back in the bedroom. The door
disappeared behind him and Severus stepped through the fireplace into his
office, where he charmed the door to sound a knock in his bedroom should anyone
need him. He was expected to be in his office until supper in case any students
needed assistance, but he could count on one hand the number of students who'd
been foolish enough to stop by in the last ten years. He then scribbled a quick
note to Dumbledore canceling his classes for Friday; he had no desire to fight
with Potter every morning, and it wouldn't kill him to make a concession to the
boy's latest neurosis. Nor would it kill Dumbledore, who'd inflicted said
neurosis. That done, he stepped back through the fireplace to his quarters and
entered the bedroom quietly.
Potter had stripped his clothes off, leaving them piled in the middle of the
floor, and was curled up in a ball under the covers. He didn't open his eyes
when Severus walked in, and Severus shucked his own clothes and slid into the
bed, curling his body around Potter's smaller frame. He was shivering despite
it being fairly warm in the bedroom, and he burrowed closer to Severus,
breathing deeply. Severus felt his arms tighten, and he buried his nose in
Potter's hair.
"I don't imagine you want to discuss this, Potter, but it's past time."
Potter's body twitched slightly. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I know." He paused and
sighed. "What's wrong with me? Why am I... I mean, I know everyone says
teenagers are-- are all crazy. But I feel like I could explode any second. I
get so angry over stupid stuff. I didn't last five minutes with Ron and
Hermione, and they're my best friends. This thing inside me is... it wants
things. I don't understand."
"Do you remember what I said to you in the infirmary?"
"You said it was everything dark, yeah. And you told Dumbledore -- and that's a
good trick with the door, by the way -- you told Dumbledore that there was no
way to get rid of it. I have to accept it and control it. But I feel like...
like it's controlling me."
Severus chose his words carefully. "In a way, it is. It's not sentient; you've
not been possessed. You needn't worry about that. But there is a presence
inside you, a sort of primal force. It has... urges. As you said, things it
wants. And the more you fight it, the more it's going to want them, and the
less control you shall have."
"I don't... that doesn't make sense."
"You have to give it what it wants, Potter. It's going to be difficult at
first, deciphering what the urges mean and how much or how little it will take
to satisfy them. But you need to feed its hunger so it quiets down. Once it
does that, you'll be able to exert more and more control over it. Because
you're right -- at this moment, it's fighting you. I believe that's what the
lines are, a physical manifestation of the struggle."
"Er. But won't feeding it just make it want more? That's the part that doesn't
make sense."
"Yes and no," Severus said, trailing a hand down Potter's side with a slight
smirk. "Imagine it's a randy teenager. You slake its lust, it falls asleep.
It's likely to wake up wanting more, yes, but you have other things to do.
While it's asleep, you take the opportunity to restrain it, tie it up, exert a
little more control. Obviously it won't last forever, but each time it happens,
you'll regain a bit more control, a bit more of yourself."
Potter was quiet, his breathing deep and even, and Severus hoped he was
thinking rather than sleeping. Finally he said, in slightly amused tones, "I'd
better not wake up tied to the bed." He squirmed, wiggling his backside against
Severus, whose cock was at half-mast already.
"Don't distract me, Potter," he snapped half-heartedly, nipping Potter's
earlobe.
Potter snorted and turned to lay on his back and look up at Severus, who
propped himself up on one elbow. "How will I know what it wants?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Fancy being buggered on broken glass?"
"Oh." Severus splayed his hand over Potter's stomach, watched the muscles
quiver under his touch. "I don't want... you'll have to do it, won't you? Hurt
me?" he said, his voice small.
"If that's what you think it wants. But I--" He sighed. "I doubt it wants you
dancing on the end of a Cruciatus, Potter. I have hurt you before."
"Oh," he said, frowning in thought. "You mean, bites and stuff? Bruises?"
Severus swallowed. "Probably a bit more extensive than that, but as I said.
Nothing major. Nothing agonizing. Nothing permanent." He swallowed again,
wondering if Potter had noticed his cock rising. Time to move on. "What else
does it want? Do you want?"
Potter looked away and then curled back on his side, pressing his back to
Severus. Severus sighed and lay down next to him, curling one arm around his
waist and sliding the other under his head. Potter reached out to stroke his
forearm, and then spoke almost too quietly for Severus to hear him. "Sometimes
I want to hurt you," he said.
Severus shut his eyes against the wave of -- something -- that crashed over
him, driving all the air from his lungs and making his stomach lurch strangely.
His arm tightened around Potter and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "All
right," he said softly. Madness.
Potter went rigid in his arms and turned back over, looking at him
incredulously. "What? All right, what?"
Severus snorted and propped himself back up on one elbow. He reached for calm.
"Potter, I'm hardly suggesting you hit me in the head with a brick."
Potter's suspicion seemed to increase. "And you'll just... let me? You're just
going to take it?"
Severus kept his face carefully blank as he thought about it. It had been a
long time. "That is the idea, yes." He paused, wondering how much he should
say. He was so hard it hurt. "Although I am a bit out of practice with that end
of things."
He watched as Potter tried to make sense of that. "I'm not sure I know exactly
what we're talking about," he said. He seemed upset.
Severus pushed the fringe off his forehead. "I know," he said. "I'll show you."
Potter bit his bottom lip. "What if I can't?"
"Hurt me?" Severus snorted softly. "I very much doubt that will be a problem.
But if you cannot, then you cannot. The world will not end."
Potter nodded, thinking it over, still chewing on his bottom lip. "What if it-
- what if it wants me to kill someone? Would it want that?"
Severus sighed. The boy was going to give himself an ulcer. "As you are a less
than competent murderer, Potter, I'm hardly concerned. But you're more than
welcome to kill me again if you like. It worked so well last time."
Potter made a strange face, somewhere between a flinch and a wry smile, and
stared fixedly at Severus' chin. "I-- you-- but you don't-- bugger. Never
mind."
"You don't honestly believe you're going to get away with that?"
"I was hoping," Potter muttered, his eyes briefly meeting Severus' and darting
away again. "It's stupid," he said.
Severus didn't make the obvious remark, but he couldn't quite keep his eyebrow
still. Potter rolled his eyes. "All right, fine," he said, still looking at
Severus' chin. "I didn't mean to get all weird this morning, about you leaving.
But I just-- I can't tell. I never know what to believe. I don't think you'd
let me stay if you didn't want me here, and I don't think you'd have sex with
me if you didn't like it. But you're such a prat about everything all the time
that I forget about all the things you don't say. And I think it's what you
don't say that counts."
Severus listened expressionlessly and wished very much he'd never asked. Now he
was obliged to come up with some sort of answer. Potter's eyes were darting to
his nervously and then looking away again, and it was making Severus want to
throttle him. "I see," he said, swallowing. "Your points, amazingly enough, are
not wholly invalid. I've had more people stampeding through my rooms in the
last two days on your account than I've allowed in the last ten years. But be
that as it may, Potter, you do realize I mean it when I say you've nowhere else
to go? Should the public get wind of your condition, they'd panic. The Ministry
would attempt to capture you and throw you in Azkaban, and you'd have to go
quietly or kill everyone they sent."
Potter stiffened and shook his head a little frantically. "I couldn't--"
Severus grabbed his chin and forced Potter to meet his eyes. "You could," he
said matter-of-factly. "If you wanted to."
"I don't," he said, his jaw set stubbornly.
"Then don't," Severus returned mildly. He let go of Potter's chin and the green
gaze turned deep and searching. Potter reached up hesitantly to touch him, and
Severus shut his eyes and breathed deeply, not moving as light fingertips
traced his cheekbones, his lips, his eyelids.
"Everyone's scared of me," Potter said quietly, sounding rather scared of
himself. "But you're not."
"No," he said, opening his eyes. Abjectly terrified was a much more precise
term. But his own fears had nothing to do with Potter killing everyone in the
Ministry's employ, and were thusly ignored as irrelevant to the topic.
"I-- it's not just the gaes."
Potter hadn't voiced it as a question, but Severus answered it anyway. "No," he
said again.
"How am I supposed to live like this?" A harsh bark of somewhat hysterical
laughter escaped his throat. "I hate the only person I can stand to be with."
Severus felt his mouth curl into a sneer, an automatic response when he didn't
know what else to say. It was painfully clear that Potter didn't hate him, for
all he -- and Severus -- wished he did; it would have made things simpler. It
was clear the boy wanted some sort of reassurance, but comfort was not Severus'
forte and he was loath to spend the weekend catering to Potter's insecurities.
On the other hand, provoking the brat currently ran the risk of leveling
Hogwarts. And gaes or no, Severus very much doubted he would survive being
crushed by falling rock. The middle ground, then.
"You're not supposed to live like this," he said. "You're to master it and move
on, or die in the attempt."
"That's very comforting, thanks."
Severus raised an eyebrow and pitched his voice lower. "There, there, Harry,"
he said, his voice far too dry to pull it off properly. "Everything will be all
right."
Potter's eyes widened and a grin flickered across his face. "That's even less
comforting."
"Indeed," he said. "I can offer you only one sort of comfort, Potter. If you're
after vague reassurances and empty platitudes, you'd best look elsewhere."
Potter thought about it. "I think I've had enough of those. I'd just as soon
hear the truth."
Severus raised his eyebrows. "The voice sounds like Potter's, and yet it speaks
sense."
Grinning impishly, Potter wiggled closer, bringing his hip snug against
Severus' erection. "You said something about comfort?"
"So I did," Severus said, and leaned down to kiss the grin off the brat's face.
They barely paused to breathe as he rolled Potter underneath him and settled
one leg between Potter's own, allowing them to thrust against one another. He'd
been ready before Potter was, but Potter was somewhat lacking in stamina and it
wasn't long before he was whimpering into Severus' mouth and clawing at his
back, begging with his body. Severus pulled up slightly and reached for
Potter's cock, stroking him quickly to orgasm as Potter gasped into his mouth.
He pulled away a bit more and grabbed one of Potter's hands, using it to gather
up as much of Potter's come as he could. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling
Potter with him, and arched into the pillow with a gasp as he curled Potter's
slick hand over his cock. Potter's hot mouth latched onto his neck, and he
inhaled sharply, thrusting into Potter's hand. He showed Potter how to stroke
him: far more slowly than Potter liked to be stroked, and with a grip so hard
it bordered on pain. Potter turned out to be a quick study, and it wasn't long
before Severus' hand dropped to the sheets and left Potter to his own devices.
He frowned slightly when Potter's mouth went away, and he opened his eyes to
see the boy sitting up and watching him intently. He shut his eyes quickly; it
was one thing to watch Potter watching him while they were both mindless with
lust. It was another thing entirely when it was just Severus. He felt Potter's
other hand curl hesitantly around his balls, and it was with no small measure
of relief that Severus welcomed that distraction. He covered Potter's hand with
his own and tried not to curse aloud as he showed Potter what he liked, and
Potter stroked up with one hand and pulled down with the other and it was
really very good.
He let go of Potter and clutched at the sheets by his legs, thrusting up into
Potter's hands, warm and rough and oh, fuck, the brat knew exactly what he was
about and Severus couldn't be bothered to wonder when that had happened. He was
just glad it had. He was close, so close, and he was about to groan Potter's
name when he felt that mouth close over his cock and suck him in. It was
clumsy, but Severus was too close to care; his hips jerked up and he fisted his
hands in Potter's mess of hair, holding him still as Severus fucked his mouth.
Potter pressed his tongue against the underside of Severus' cock, and Severus
thrust once, twice, five times and then came straight down Potter's throat, his
whole body shaking.
Severus held Potter's head where it was as Potter choked and gagged and whined
around his cock, but when Severus finally let go and collapsed into the
mattress, Potter didn't move. He sucked Severus gently, lapping up every drop
of come, and when Severus opened his eyes, Potter was sitting there watching
him, grinning like a fool and licking his lips. Severus stifled a groan and
grabbed Potter's hair, pulling him down and licking his come out of Potter's
mouth.
The kiss was slow and long and languid, and Severus felt Potter's cock stirring
again before the brat pulled away and sat up. He was sitting strangely, and his
eyes were darting about in the way that meant he had something to say but
wasn't sure he wanted to come out with it. Severus waited.
Potter swallowed. "Can we... you said, before. At the castle. You said you
weren't, er, wholly averse. To me. That you." He reddened and looked away.
Severus thought about sparing him, but he wasn't ready to forgive Potter for
watching him come, no matter that he'd all but invited the scrutiny. He sat up,
propped his back against the headboard, crossed his arms, and arched an
eyebrow. Potter looked at his feet. "I was wondering if. And, I mean, you don't
have to. If you don't want. But I thought maybe we could. I could.
MaybeIcouldtop."
The eyebrow climbed a little higher. "Maybe you could top," he repeated flatly,
drawing out the words.
Potter looked at the ceiling and nodded. "Yeah. If you want."
Severus stared at Potter, who shut his eyes and bit his lip and pointed his
head in the direction of anything that wasn't Severus. Severus silently reached
behind his back and grabbed the lubricant off the bedside table. Then he
waited.
It took a while, but Potter eventually worked up the courage to look at him. He
opened his eyes and met Severus' own briefly, looked away, and then back at
Severus. Severus held out the lube without a word, and Potter's eyes widened
almost comically. Severus snorted softly and slid down the bed, rolling on to
his stomach and drawing one knee up to his chest. He heard Potter's breath
hitch behind him, and then heard the soft pop of the jar opening.
He hoped Potter had been paying attention, as he wasn't overly inclined to talk
him through this particular process. He felt Potter's oiled fingers slide down
his cleft and circle his entrance hesitantly, and he took a deep breath. Then
Potter spooned up behind him as best he could, fingers working between Severus'
legs, and licked his ear. "Show me," he said. Severus considered refusing, but
then Potter said "please" and Severus' hand found its way to Potter's without
much help from Severus.
He used Potter's middle finger to circle his entrance, pushing so slowly he
thought the anticipation might well kill them both. He concentrated on his
breathing as he worked Potter's finger inside him to the knuckle and then
pulled it back out again before pushing it in a little deeper. Potter's
breathing was shallow behind him, and when he added his own finger to Potter's
and pushed them both inside, Potter breathed "god" against his ear and pressed
his body closer. Severus pushed on Potter's finger with his own, brushing it
against his prostate, and couldn't contain his gasp as a spark of pleasure tore
up his spine.
"Oh," Potter said, and did it again with no encouragement.
The noise Severus made sounded suspiciously like, "nngh," and he pulled his
hand away. Potter quickly replaced Severus' finger with another of his own and
set about fucking him so slowly Severus was forced to re-evaluate his initial
assessment of Potter's sadistic tendencies. "More," he growled, and Potter
added a third finger, hitting Severus' prostate more often than not and
reducing him to a gasping, sweaty sprawl of limbs.
"Snape? All right?" Potter's tone meant he'd asked more than once. Wonderful.
Severus wasn't hard again, not so soon, and he would have been content to be
fucked by Potter's fingers until he was. But Potter'd been hard almost as soon
as he'd started, and patience wasn't one of the boy's strengths. Severus
nodded, and Potter was clambering over his back and pressing his prick inside
him before Severus had even finished giving permission.
Severus exhaled slowly and pushed back, felt Potter sinking into his body with
an exquisite slowness that was almost painful. His cock wasn't all that long,
but it was thick, and stretching to accommodate Potter's girth felt better than
it had any right to. Potter was shaking above him, sweat dripping onto the side
of Severus' face, and they groaned simultaneously when Potter was finally all
the way in.
"Fuck," Potter said, his teeth scraping the skin below Severus' ear. "I'm not
going to--" Smirking, Severus clenched around Potter's cock and sucked in his
breath at the feeling. "Oh, god. I can't-- Snape."
He managed two jerky, incomplete thrusts before cursing, shuddering, and
spilling inside Severus. He relaxed slowly, his body hot and heavy as they lay
there. It took a while, but Potter finally stirred, pulling his softening prick
out and rolling over onto his back.
"Sorry," he muttered. Severus rolled onto his own back and sat up; Potter had
thrown an arm over his eyes, but what Severus could see of his face was red
with mortification. Potter had done about as well as Severus had expected him
to, and he hadn't thought Potter would have expected anything different. But
clearly he had, which put Severus at something of a loss for words for the
second time that day -- not a feeling he particularly enjoyed. Potter shifted
his arm and peered out timidly from beneath it. Severus raised an eyebrow, and
Potter went back into hiding.
"Perhaps next time you ought to have more than one orgasm first," Severus said.
The arm moved slowly. "Next time?"
Severus shot him the most repressive look he could manage. "You're sixteen,
Potter. One all-too-brief attempt at sodomy shouldn't send you fleeing to a
monastery. But if you're so easily cowed, by all means. Flee."
Potter's eyes flashed. "I wasn't going-- oh." He stopped and grinned. "You are
comforting, you know. Just. In your own way."
"Glad to hear it," Severus muttered. He stretched, yawning, and then cursed.
His wards were prickling. He slid from the bed and pulled his robes on quickly.
"Visitors," Severus said in answer to Potter's unasked question. "Stay."
"Er, Snape? Maybe you shouldn't. I mean, you look. Um. Pretty well-fucked."
Severus had his wand out before Potter finished and quickly made himself
respectable. He strode through the front room as the knock on his door sounded,
and was dismayed when he pulled it open to see the headmaster standing in the
hallway. He was reasonably sure he kept the dismay off his face as he stepped
aside. "Headmaster."
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said, stepping through. "I won't be long."
Fortunately, he was true to his word. He stayed long enough for Severus to tell
him Potter's whereabouts and for him to tell Severus that Potter's room was
ready. The door would appear in Severus' study, opposite the entrance to his
own bedroom. He also agreed to announce during supper that Friday Potions
classes were canceled, and Severus agreed to attend the Order meeting on
Saturday. Dumbledore looked pointedly at the shattered cognac bottle on the
floor but didn't ask questions, and Severus didn't volunteer any information.
They spoke briefly about Potter's plans, which Severus made up on the spot, and
Dumbledore said he would gather up Overseers so Potter could begin remotely
viewing lectures. It was possible Severus agreed to an Overseer in his own
class, which was ludicrous as the things were distracting and dangerous, but he
couldn't be sure. Most of his attention was focused elsewhere -- namely, on the
progress of Potter's come as it dripped down his legs.
Although Dumbledore hadn't stayed long, it was apparently more than enough time
for Potter to have fallen asleep. Severus stood over the bed and stared down at
him, at Harry Potter sleeping soundly in his bed, not some borrowed bed of
Black's, naked and sated and trusting and far too young for any of this.
Severus dragged a hand through his hair, cursed inwardly, and then went into
the other room. He dropped into his battered armchair, and proceeded to drink
rather more Oban than was probably wise.
***** Day 41 *****
 
                                    Day 41
                           Friday, October 11, 1996

Severus was quite in his cups when Potter woke up and emerged from the bedroom
at half two in the morning. He stumbled out muzzy-eyed, messy-haired, and naked
but for the lines crawling over his body. Severus, sitting in the near-dark and
still drinking, watched him with hooded eyes and didn't say anything.
Potter didn't say anything, either. He approached Severus slowly and took the
glass from his hand, and Severus was too taken aback to protest. Potter put it
down on the small table next to the chair, grabbed a blanket from the couch,
wrapped it around his shoulders, climbed on Severus' lap, and went back to
sleep.
Severus, still taken aback, blinked at the fireplace, tucked Potter's head
under his chin, and summoned his scotch.
 
                                      ***
Potter woke up in a panic. Severus could tell because he was sitting in the
chair next to the bed, watching Potter sleep, and because the Fidelius informed
him that Potter was in some sort of trouble. The boy thrashed in the bed and
sat up with a soft cry, looking about the room wildly before seeing Severus. He
stopped panicking.
"What are you doing?"
Severus had no idea. He stared at the outline of Potter's body and didn't say
anything. Potter tried again. "What time is it?"
"Just gone five."
"At night?"
"No."
"Why'd you let me sleep so long?"
"It's not as if you've anything else to do, Potter."
Potter considered that and shrugged. "When are you leaving for class?"
"I'm not."
"Why not? What day is it? What happened to classes?"
"I canceled them."
"For me?"
Severus opened his mouth to say no. "Yes."
"You're very drunk, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Come to bed?"
"I'd rather not."
"If you're going to be creepy and watch me sleep, at least touch me while
you're doing it. I sleep better with you."
"I don't care."
Potter paused, apparently to change tactics. "I thought you said you didn't get
drunk."
"I'm an inveterate liar, Mr. Potter. I should think even you would have figured
that out by now."
"I don't know what 'inveterate' means."
"Color me shocked."
"You could tell me instead of making fun of me, and I'll know next time."
"Habitual. Firmly established."
"See? That wasn't so bad. And I did know that, thanks, and I don't care. Please
come to bed."
Severus stood. "You're speaking nonsense."
"Like you're in any condition to know." He stood up on shaky legs in the middle
of the bed and started trying to fix the sheets. Severus rolled his eyes and
reached for his wand, righting them quickly. Potter sat back down.
"Do not think that the imbibing of alcohol divests me of enough of my faculties
to render me less lucid than you, Potter." He began unbuttoning his robes.
"God, who talks like that? Just get in bed."
"I talk like that." Severus stepped out of his robes and over to the side of
the bed. "And don't give me orders."
"Sorry, sir," Potter said, clearly unrepentant.
Severus sneered, all too aware Potter couldn't see him, and slid under the
sheets. Potter waited a few seconds for Severus to get settled, and then
sprawled presumptuously over his chest. Severus, his defenses battered by
alcohol, and utterly exhausted by assorted Potter-induced traumas, fell into a
deep sleep.
 
                                      ***
Potter once again woke in a panic, which woke Severus. Severus, not used to
sleeping and therefore not used to waking up, also woke in a panic, and was on
his feet with his wand at the ready within seconds. Potter, seeing this, went
for his own wand and flew off the bed, putting his back to Severus' and looking
for the danger. They stood there like idiots, chests heaving, for several long
seconds before either one of them realized there wasn't actually any danger.
Severus turned, crossed his arms, and glared down his nose at Potter, whose
shoulders sagged as he turned around and looked up sheepishly. "Er. Good
morning, sir."
Severus failed to see anything good about it, and he tossed his wand on the bed
in disgust before heading for the loo. Once there, he splashed cold water on
his face and willed his heart to slow down; the pounding was hurting his head.
Being drunk was easily remedied with potions. Being hung over, on the other
hand, was a problem. He glared into the mirror. Merlin, he loathed sleeping.
His head felt full of cobwebs, his mouth felt full of cotton, his muscles were
sore and stiff and not functioning properly, his bedroom smelled of stale,
fetid air, and the entire endeavor was a colossal waste of time.
He stepped into the shower and stood under the cool water for a long time, his
forehead against the tile. He stayed long enough for his head to clear and his
muscles to stop trembling and start obeying orders. When he emerged, he was
still hung over, but his mood was slightly less foul. He spelled his hair dry
and wrapped a towel round his waist before going back into the bedroom, where
Potter was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, surrounded by a stack
of newspapers. He looked up with an uncertain smile, but Severus wasn't yet in
the mood for conversation. He curled his lip, shrugged into his robes, and went
to the kitchen to make breakfast. Potter, miraculously showing some modicum of
sense, did not follow him.
 
                                      ***
"So," Potter said, using his fork to shove eggs from one side of his plate to
the other. Severus raised an eyebrow. "Er. What are we going to do today? Sir."
Severus ground his teeth. "I have no intention of dancing for your amusement,
Potter. You will begin viewing lectures via Overseer on Monday. You will
continue your training. You will recover from your epic battle with the Dark
Lord. Et cetera."
"But that's Monday. We have all weekend. Can't we..."
Despite the fact that spending three days in bed with Potter was not entirely
distasteful, Severus' lip curled. "If you are not capable of saying it, Potter,
then we ought not be doing it."
Potter stared for a moment and then threw his fork down on the table. "Fuck
you, Snape," he snapped. "I'll be reading. Come find me when you're not being
such a bastard."
"You shall never see me again," Severus muttered under his breath.
"Brilliant," Potter shot back, and stormed out of the room. Severus' own fork
clattered to the table, and he dropped his head to his hands. He had played
many roles in his life, but 'considerate partner' was not one of them. He'd
liked his chambers as they were -- a sanctuary, free of the expectations of the
outside world. He resented Potter's intrusion but recognized both that the brat
had nowhere else to go and also that he himself had been half-mad without the
boy around. Severus resented the implications. He resented the entire
situation, full stop, and he wasn't sure he would be able to make the
concessions necessary to pull the thing off properly. On the other hand, if he
continued to goad and snap at Potter, he would very likely find himself serving
yet another Dark Lord, a prospect which was distinctly unappealing.
He summoned the Oban from the other room and poured himself a glass, wondering
how in Merlin's name he always found himself in these sorts of predicaments,
doing things he could barely stomach for wizards he could barely tolerate.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!