Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/7885975. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Fandom: Harry_Potter_-_J.K._Rowling Relationship: Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape, Severus_Snape/Other(s) Character: Harry_Potter, Severus_Snape, Albus_Dumbledore, Rubeus_Hagrid, Gilderoy Lockhart Additional Tags: First_Time, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Bestiality, Unusual_Sexual Situation Collections: Ink_Stained_Fingers Stats: Published: 2015-10-22 Words: 3284 ****** SSSlytherin! ****** by Byrdie Summary What can happen when a wizard flunks Latin. I know, I suck at these. Sorry. Notes This story was originally archived at Ink_Stained_Fingers, which was created in 2002 as a home for Harry Potter slash fiction. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2015. We e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author or artist, please contact me using the e-mail address at the Ink_Stained_Fingers_collection profile. Author's notes: Characters are HERS, not mine, more’s the pity. Written purely for fannish entertainment, no galleons changed hands. Special thanks to my fearless beta,Lara, who worked all sorts of magic so I could finish this in time. Special Note: It is NOT bestiality sexual abuse of an animal when your normally human mate becomes a shapechanger. But if you can’t handle that, hit the you-know-what key. Flames will be used to cook the extra large cauldron of Pest Begone Potion I keep on hand for their senders and other rude folk. SSSlytherin! "Severus Snape, you sexy bitch. Mine, all mine, at last." The dark hooded figure ran a firm, possessive hand over the naked, bound body upon the bed. The Hogwarts Potions Master shuddered, his coal eyes flaming with anger, not desire. Along with a good healthy dose of loathing and contempt. Despite the feeble attempt at disguise he knew the owner of that hand, that voice. Gilderoy Lockhart, former DADA professor and pompous ninny extraordinaire. Snape wrinkled his nose in disgust while wriggling away -- at least as far as the enchanted manacles would permit, which was no more than an inch or so in either direction -- from Lockhart's repulsive touch. Not even as a prisoner in Voldemort's torture chambers had he known such debasement. Then again, neither the Dark Lord nor any of his lackeys were particularly interested in rape at the time ... unlike this insipid blond git. Lockhart leered and groped him again in an obscene attempt to coax a response from the flaccid flesh between his legs, which were spread painfully apart, ankles chained fast to the bedposts. Thrust three dry fingers deep inside him. Snape burned. Bled. He howled, as much from anger as from pain. Thanks to stone walls and magic, nobody heard him. Lockhart clumsily shoved in the bulbous head of his ugly, unwashed prick while chanting the spell to arouse one's sex partner. Time, alas, had done nothing to improve the idiot's competency. Or his pronounciation: what should have been "animal passion" came out "animal nature" instead. Severus screamed as the charm-turned-hex took effect. He was still screaming, albeit mentally, when he woke up in his own bed in his dungeon at Hogwarts. Wrapped tightly around the lush young body of his one true love, Harry James Potter. ============================================================================= THREE DAYS EARLIER: Hagrid was at his wit's end. Here he was, Hogwarts resident expert on the Care of Magical Creatures, and his newest acquisition was apparently hell- bent on starving itself to death. A Morelia Boeleni, distant cousin to the Runespoor, turning up its nose in disdain at the choice selection of available live prey offered -- who ever heard of such a thing? Not unless it were sick (this one wasn't) or out of sorts due to being too hot or, more likely, too cold. Which was no longer the case; the poor half-frozen thing he'd come across at the edge of Forbidden Forest the other day bore almost no resemblance to this fine specimen. At least thirteen feet from nose to tail, when he (here Hagrid was only guessing, no way to be certain unless it laid eggs) deigned to stretch fully out. Black, highly iridescent scales that seemed almost patternless at first glance but flecked with ivory here and there, mostly around his mouth, neck, and belly. A large, well-formed head atop a slender -- but muscular -- body. All in all, a beautiful beastie, thought the giant; now if only he would eat! "How many more times must I tell you," Severus hissed, his tail lashing about in vexation at his predicament. " I do NOT eat meat. Milk, yesss. Eggs, yesss. Fish and poultry, only occasionally. Live rodentsss, never. I prefer fresh fruit and vegetables." He was hardly likely to confess to his great weakness for frogs ... ones of the chocolate variety. Hagrid backed carefully away, lest he be walloped or worse, bitten. He threw up his hands in despair: give him a hippogriff or a unicorn any day, at least you could reason with those. Talking sense into a --- And the light dawned. A talking Boelinin? Obviously the animal was trying to communicate with him. Trouble was, Hagrid couldn't understand a word. What he wanted was an interpreter, translation spells were useless for this. He needed someone who spoke the language as if it were his mother tongue, then he'd get to the root of his little problem with "Morrie" here. Hagrid grinned. "Now don't you be worryin' yerself," he said. "Harry Potter'll know just what to do." The transfigured potions master hung his head and sighed. Bloody unlikely, he thought. The "Boy Who Lived" would be much too busy. Laughing his Gryffindor arse off. # To Harry's credit, he didn't so much as snicker when the python addressed him in Snape's oh-so-familiar sarcastic tones. Hagrid, on the other hand, nearly fainted on being informed that his new pet was in truth the head of Slytherin, chief spy for Dumbledore and presumed victim of Deatheater foul play. "Not Deatheatersss," Severus told them later, in the privacy of the Headmaster's office. He did not want to go into all of the details, especially those concerning the rape, but he had no other choice. Not only was there no other parseltongue-gifted wizard around to interpret for him, but if they were going to have a relationship -- now that the young man had come of age and Voldemort was no longer a threat -- anything less than total honesty between them was out of the question. "Gilderoy Lockhart." Dumbledore blinked. "I thought he was still in St. Mungo's." "He was. Until he stole Polyjuice potion from an orderly -- Merlin only knows why the imbecile had it in the first place! -- and used it to make him look like one of the doctors. Then he just waltzed through the front door as if he owned the place." That was essientially what had happened; there was no way Harry would translate his whole speech word for word. Not with Snape using those kind of words. "But why kidnap you? He wasn't in league with ..." Little by little, the whole sordid story came out. ============================================================================= "Insane or not," Harry swore, not for the first time. "I'm going to murder the son of a bitch." On second thought, that was too good for Lockhart; much better to hunt him down and hit him with every Unforgivable he knew, short of the killing curse. This was not the way he'd pictured their first night together. As if reading his mind, Severus pulled away. He slid off the bed and rolled himself into a tight scaly ball all the way over on the other side of the room. "SSSorry," he whispered. He would have wept, so great was his misery, but tears were another thing this form denied him. "I didn't mean to ... I know what I am... a ssslimy SSSlytherin, not fit to..." In a flash, Harry was beside him. "Don't say that. Don't EVER say that! He's the one that's not fit. The one that deserves Azkaban and worse for hurting my beautiful lover." "SSSome lover! I can't even hold you properly." "But I can hold you. And I just love it when you're all coiled around me; it makes me feel safe. Cherished. Protected." Sev stared, dumbfounded. "Really?" Harry smiled and kissed him. "Really. There's just one thing I'm afraid of." "Only one?" Snape could think of dozens. Hundreds. Then again, Potter was a Gryffindor. More guts than brains, that ought to be their motto. "Uh huh." The brat was teasing him and he knew it. Which only added to the attraction. "I'm afraid that when we figure out how to change you back I'll lose my favorite snugglebunny." "Not in a million yearsss," Snape declared, and wound tenderly about him. ============================================================================= The days turned into weeks, and still there was no change in Severus' condition, as Pomfrey kept referring to it. As it was no longer possible for him to teach, Sirius Black, who'd been exonerated by the Ministry the previous year, temporarily took over all of his potions classes. The students were told only that Snape had met with an accident from which he was still recovering. Since he needed rest and quiet, visitors were not allowed, the only exceptions being Harry and Dumbledore. Not trusting his beloved's care to gossipy house elves, Harry had moved in with him, nearly a month earlier than planned. Between getting used to his new body and getting to know his bondmate better, Severus had little time to be bored, although he did miss potions. Terribly, in fact. So much for all the rumors that he still coveted promotion, even though the Dark Arts position was filled, at last by a competent instructor. The weather had turned perfectly horrendous, causing Quidditch practice to be cancelled. Harry didn't mind in the least, he was much too comfortable where he was. In an overstuffed armchair in front of the fireplace, cuddling with Severus. Who, at the moment, was one contented reptile. This despite the fact that it had been ages since they'd managed a proper snog -- one couldn't really count a couple of rushed encounters in the Astronomy tower between battles with Voldemort, could one? He'd promised them both the last time... but look how that had turned out. A discreet cough interrupted his reverie. Albus, of course. Nobody else could get past his wards. "Yesss?" It came out much snarkier than than he'd meant, but he was nervous. Harry couldn't blame him, seeing as how Dumbledore was not at all his cheery self. No doubt more bad news. "Good afternoon to you too, Severus. Harry." Surely that wasn't embarrassment Harry sensed. What on earth for? Their position could hardly be seen as compromising ...even if he happened to have a naked Snape in his lap. "Afternoon, Headmaster." Curious glance at the ancient tome in Dumbledore's hands. It had to be from the restricted section, though Harry couldn't remember ever having seen it before. He'd have to ask Hermione sometime, these days she practically lived in the library. "Have you found anything?" "As a matter of fact..." The old wizard was blushing. He tapped the red leather volume with his wand. "Page 669."  The book opened. Severus and Harry both gasped, the younger of the pair turning beet red all over. "You've got to be kidding. I didn't even think that was anatomically possible." "SSSurely there mussst be another way." There had to be. That looked dangerous. Sexy as hell but ... no, he could lose control. Harry could get hurt. It wasn't worth it. "I'm afraid not," Albus replied. "It seems this particular curse is related to Lycanthropus. It can't be cured. However, if the victim is fortunate enough to be bonded to a powerful wizard, he or she becomes an Animagus, completely able to control the transformation." Harry brightened. "And we establish control by --" "Completing your bond as soon as possible." Well, he'd sort of figured that. Dumbledore added, "With one important variation: your essences must be shared simultaneously, otherwise the spell won't work." # "Of all the insufferably stubborn gits!" Harry shouted in Snape's face. "Why I ever fell in love with ... gods all damnit, don't you even want to be human again?" Severeus reared. Spat. "Don't be ssstupid. You know I do. But I will not put you at risssk. We'll find another way." "You heard Albus. And you read the book. There is no other way." Harry was right, Snape realized. The knowledge was not comforting. "What if I hurt you? I could, you know." "That was true even before this happened," Harry pointed out. "And I could hurt you. But I won't. I trust you, the same as you trust me." He bit his lip. "You do trust me, don't you?" Severus tried to nod yes but found he wasn't quite designed for it. He settled for nuzzling Harry's cheek. "Alwaysss, dear heart." "Then let me give you this, my love. Please?" Oh no, not puppy dog eyes! Snape caved. "Very well. But we do it my way." # A thorough cleansing was part of the ritual. Harry, being virgin, found it somewhat uncomfortable at first, but he quickly became accustomed to the sensations of fluid and fullness. Next came the preparation and contraceptive spells -- wizard males could get pregnant as easily as females, and while they both wanted to have children, they'd decided to wait until after graduation to start a family. Finally, a period of meditation to center himself, then he was ready. He lay, at his lover's insistance, in the exact center of their bed, his hips raised on a convenient pillow. Already he was hard and leaking ... and Snape had done nothing more than look! "SSSo beautiful," Severus crooned. "Now close your eyesss, my angel." Harry shook his head. "No, I won't pretend. You are my heart and soul. My husband, forsaking all others. And I will always desire you, no matter what body you choose to wear." With that, he held out his hand for his lover to join him. Solid stone could not refuse an invitation like that, let alone Severus Snape. Gracefully, gratefully he slithered into the embrace. Longed with all his being to return it, to make love to his husband like any other man on this, their wedding night. But without hands to touch or lips to kiss... He'd have to be very, very creative. Meanwhile, Harry was doing splendid, no, heroic service in that department. Not a single inch of Severus' considerable length -- and girth -- went neglected. He was stroked, licked and nibbled all over until at last he lay, a ribbon of bliss, between Harry's elegantly splayed thighs. Twisting around, he found himself nose to eye with his beloved's cock. My, what a pretty thing it was, all ripe and dusky, dripping with need. He wanted nothing more than to take it. Savor it awhile, then suck it hard and swallow it whole, draining every single drop of delicious cream. He opened his mouth. And remembered he now had fangs. His mouth was designed for trapping, holding and devouring prey, not performing fellatio. He drooped, radiating his frustration. Blessed Merlin! If he hadn't caught himself in time.... He shuddered in horror at the thought. Trust Harry to take matters into his own hands. If Severus needed encouragement.... Idly, he began to toy with his nipples, tweaking each dainty bud in turn. Roll, pinch, twist. Whimper. "Want you, baby." Right hand trailing along his abdomen. Down, down, stopping a moment to play with lightly fuzzed balls before wrapping around his aching, straining shaft. Slicking it with his juices from crown to base and stroking. Kneading away at his hot, throbbing flesh. "Need you. Need you so bad." Moaning and writhing, a well-practiced finger teasing, probing. In and out of the tight little hole. "Inside me, please?" The little slut! How could Snape -- how could anyone -- resist the likes of that? Utterly impossible, he thought, body responding automatically to the totally wanton display. His tail curled in mating position at Harry's opening, engorged organs emerging from his belly vent. "Yesss." Taking a firm grip on his libido, which was urging him to just slam home and get on with it, he slowly pushed past the guardian muscle. When fully sheathed he paused, letting his lover adjust to his presence. Carefully watching, listening, scenting his love's reactions. He would do absolutely nothing that Harry wasn't ready for. The slight burn of entry faded into pleasure and Harry found himself in a quandary. On the one hand, he loved Sev's gentleness and consideration. On the other, he felt like hexing him six ways to Sunday for being so bloody slow. Not that there was anything wrong with taking one's time, mind you, but this was ridiculous. They were supposed to come together; however at this rate... he tightened his muscles around the intruder. No, intruders, he reminded himself, suppressing an unseemly giggle. Snape as a snake had two stiff pricks and both were up his tender young arse. Now if only he would just ... "Move, damnit," Harry pleaded, fearing for his sanity. "Fuck me now and fuck me hard." Virgin or no, he was a man, not some delicate little china doll. He pushed back, forcing an even deeper penetration as his lover started to thrust. "Yes...like that...oooh!" That last stroke was a doozy; he could swear he saw lightning. Must've been his prostate or something. He only knew he wanted: "More!" He had to have it, he'd die if he didn't. "There! Argghhh!" Pumping himself in a frenzy with both hands now, desperate to come. He wasn't the only one. "Can't ...hold...back," Severus warned, breathless. Gods, but he was close! Again and again he plowed Harry's moist heat, craving release with every fiber of his being. "Then...don't." Harry gasped. Shivered as a serpentine tongue flicked over the head of his dick, one prong teasing its weeping slit. Moaned as it pressed harder, mimicking the same perfect rhythm to which he was being oh so gloriously shagged. With a loud, wordless cry, he came, shooting great blasts of hot salty jism right down his lover's waiting throat. Less than a heartbeat later Severus' own climax hit, so hard he'd be screaming the castle walls down in his ecstasy -- if he hadn't been too busy swallowing that big luscious load. So good! Harry's muscles fluttered and clenched around him, gripping and milking. He poured forth a veritable flood of thick, creamy cum. "Love you," he managed to say right before passing out, cocks buried to the hilt in his husband's lusty arsehole. "Love you too," replied the sated Harry Potter-Snape. A jaw cracking yawn and he was fast asleep. ============================================================================= TWO WEEKS LATER: The honeymooners finally emerged from the dungeon. Harry looked like something Mrs. Norris wouldn't drag in while Sev was his own sweet Slytherin self...minus the scales, et al. They entered the Great Hall with some trepidation, considering what Dobby and company had 'arranged' last Valentine's Day, when news of their courtship -- until then secret because of Voldemort -- leaked out. This time, thank Merlin, headache and anti-nausea potions would not be needed. The decor, while romantic in keeping with the occasion, was actually quite tasteful. McGonnagal must have put her foot down, Harry thought. No way on earth could the great Albus Dumbledore, master mage that he was, handle a herd of house elves run amok. "I totally agree." A hint of laughter, sarcastic but by no means cruel, in that dark sexy voice. Oops, Harry hadn't meant to broadcast. This telepathy thing they had going would take some getting used to, as would certain other ... aspects ... of their bond. The younger man's face rivaled his formal House robes as he remembered Sev's idea of a wake up call. Later, he would admit he hadn't heard a word of the Headmaster's welcome back/ congratulations, newlyweds speech -- except for the "let the Feast begin" part. He was far too concerned with other matters, namely how best to return the favor. With interest, the Potions Master really had it coming. Hmm... coming. Harry briefly lowered his shields, allowing his mate a glimpse of a very naughty thought. Much to everybody's amusement, Professor Severus Snape-Potter yelped as if he'd just been goosed by a gargoyle. Or worse, Filch. Embarrassed, he buried his face in his hands, highly tempted to change forms and slither away. Out to the Shrieking Shack -- who'd think to look for him there? -- and under the biggest rock he could find. He would, too, if he thought he could get away with it. Alas, he hadn't a prayer. That unruly brat would probably transform into a bloody mongoose and drag him off into the bushes, the better to have his wicked way. Severus groaned and, when he was sure nobody was watching, reached under his robes to adjust his suddenly too-tight trousers. No doubt about it, this was going to be one of those days. What he wouldn't give for an old-fashioned Deatheater attack right about now. Anything to distract him from those tantalizing green Gryffindor eyes. Harry smirked and fed him a piece of wedding cake. ============================================================================= Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!