Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4671539.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Severus_Snape, Remus_Lupin
  Additional Tags:
      Slash
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-28 Words: 8873
****** You Can't Always Get What You Want ******
by Lyowyn
Summary
     But sometimes you get what you need. Severus is suffering the after
     effects of the cruciatus. He finds comfort in an unlikely source.
"You've failed me once again, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed. "I want Albus
Dumbledore dead."
For once both of his masters were in agreement. Under different circumstances,
Severus might have found that ironic. As it was, he'd been kneeling before a
monster for the last twenty minutes, and his knees were starting to ache. The
madman continued to rant while Severus concentrated on reinforcing his mental
defenses. He knew what was coming, and by now he was just ready to get it over
with.
"Here's a little reminder of your place, Severus," The Dark Lord spat, raising
his wand. Severus tried to loosen his muscles. "Crucio!"
Severus felt every muscle contract in pain. He clamped down on his mental
defenses the best he could. In that much pain it was impossible to block The
Dark Lord from his mind completely; the best thing to do was just to project as
much pain as possible and hope that Voldemort didn't try to look deeper. The
worst part was that in order to do that, Severus had to focus on the pain. The
best way to negate some of the effects of the cruciatus was to try to remove
yourself from the pain. That was why some victims of the curse reverted to a
childlike state. Unfortunately, Severus didn't have the luxury of going to a
happy place; not that he had a happy place to go to, every happy memory he had
was tainted by a layer of pain and regret. To protect the Order, to protect
Lily's son, he focused every ounce of his attention on the pain ripping through
his body; it was excruciating.
Seconds drew out into a lifetime, where everything was searing agony with no
escape and all he longed for was death. Then it stopped. He lay in an
undignified heap at The Dark Lord's feet.
"Now get out of my sight," Voldemort sneered, "and next time you'd better have
some results."
Severus struggled to his feet, falling hard onto the stone floor twice as his
abused muscles gave out on him. Finally, he managed to stand up and limped out
of The Dark Lord's audience chamber. He slumped against the wall as soon as he
was around the corner in the hall.
Severus' breath came in ragged gasps and his pulse pounded in his ears, but he
forced his eyes open and tried to straighten up again. He was still in enemy
territory. He could convalesce once he was back at the castle. That seemed like
an eternity away. Apparition was no more allowed within Voldemort's fortress
than it was within Dumbledore's. He'd have to walk past the wards before he
could apparate away from here, and then it was another half-mile hike up to the
castle from Hogsmede.
He was getting too old for this shit.
By the time he had made it past the wards, his tired body refused to move
another step and he collapsed onto the ground, only barely managing to put his
hands out to break his fall. He just lay there on the ground for a long time,
not moving, until he was able to force himself back to his feet. Severus knew
that he couldn't make it back to the castle, so he had to settle for the second
best option.
He settled his robes the best he could and apparated to Grimmauld Place.
Severus dragged his eyes open and was met by a flat plane of black. He blinked
a couple times and the view resolved itself into the curtained canopy above his
bed at Grimmauld Place. He groaned, turned over in bed, and was met by a pair
of amber eyes.
He let out a gasp of surprise.
"You're finally awake," Remus Lupin said, smiling at him.
Severus groaned again.
"You had me worried there for a while," Remus continued. "I found you
unconscious on the front stoop."
Severus tried to tell Remus that he'd been summoned to the Dark Lord last
night, but all that came out was a dry rasp.
"It's okay," Remus said, "don't try to talk yet. I spoke to Albus last night,
and he has Mad Eye covering your classes today. Here drink this," Remus held a
glass to his lips, but Severus didn't drink. "It's just water," Remus said, and
Severus sat up a little against the pillows and took the glass from him. He
could hardly lift it, his arms were so weak.
"There are some potions in the downstairs cabinet," he managed to rasp out,
then, "a small purple bottle, and a green one with a glass stopper. Will you go
get them for me?"
Remus nodded, taking the glass from Severus. "You should try to eat something
too. Do you want me to have Kreecher make you some breakfast?"
"Later," Severus said.
Remus nodded and left the room.
While he was gone, Severus managed to prop himself into a sitting position
against the pillows, his every muscle protesting at the strain. He noticed then
that his robes were folded neatly on the chair beside the bed, and he lifted
the blankets to peer underneath. He wore a pair of blue cotton sleep pants that
definitely weren't his. His chest was bare, and he glanced down at the pale
flesh with its crisscrossing of even paler scars. The light spattering of black
chest hair only proved as a stark contrast, making him look even whiter. You
could play percussion against his ribs, he was so thin. His nipples stood out
attesting to the cold of the drafty old house, and he pulled the blankets
tighter around him.
"Were these the ones that you wanted?" Remus asked, coming into the room
holding two bottles of potion.
"Yes, thank you," Severus said, taking them, and draining both bottles in quick
succession. The effect was instantaneous. A warm tingling sensation filled his
limbs, and he felt his muscles relax and some of the ache melted away.
"Do you mind if I ask what happened?"
"The same thing that always happens," Severus snapped. "I went to The Dark Lord
with nothing to show for myself and I was punished accordingly."
The pitying look that Remus gave him was almost enough to make him pull his
wand and jump out of bed, but Severus doubted he would be able to deal with the
humiliation when he got tangled in the bed clothes and fell on his face or when
his strength inevitably gave out and he slumped into Lupin's arms. Instead he
grumbled, "Don't look so vexed, Lupin. It wasn't the first time and it won't be
the last. I've been a little overworked lately, and the cruciatus effected me a
little worse than usual, that's all. If I had been able to make it back to the
castle, I would have. It is hardly necessary for you to play nursemaid."
"I'm just trying to help," Remus said. "Albus asked me to look after you, so
just shut up and accept some damn help, okay. It's not like I'm enjoying this
any more than you are."
"I'm fine, Lupin. I no longer require your assistance, thank you."
"Bollocks," Remus said. "You can hardly sit up. So, tell me what you want for
breakfast, and I'll have Kreecher make it for you while I floo call Albus and
tell him that you're awake and as stubborn and unpleasant as ever- I'm sure
he'll see that as a sign of your recovery."
Severus sighed. "It's too soon to eat; I'd just bring it back up. The potion
needs time to work. It'll be at least a couple hours before I can keep anything
down."
"Okay," Remus said. "What do you need then? What else can I do to help?"
"A warm bath would be welcome," Severus said after a moment. "Could you run me
some water?"
"Fine," Remus said and left the room again.
Severus slumped back against the pillows and waited. He ran over the events of
the previous night again in his head, hoping that he could come up with
something to tell Dumbledore, but the only information he had to bring back to
the man was that Voldemort wanted him dead, and that was hardly new
information. That brought back the weight of the knowledge of what Dumbledore
wanted him to do. He felt the tears well up in his eyes and he used all of his
will to keep them from falling. He already felt powerless enough; he didn't
need Lupin to see him crying. The knowledge that in a few short months Lupin
would be ready to kill him on sight didn't help matters much. Despite all of
their history, he'd begun to like the werewolf. He was quiet and intelligent- a
little too kindhearted for Severus' tastes, but pleasant enough to talk to.
He'd started staying for dinner after the Order meetings now that Sirius was
dead and the children were back at school, and after spending so many hours
talking to him, Severus had almost come to think of him as a friend- or, at
least, as much of a friend as he was capable of having at the present time.
Remus came back then. "I talked to Albus. He wants you to go see him when you
get back to the castle."
Severus sighed. There was nothing to tell.
"Your bath is ready. Do you need me to levitate you to the bathroom?"
Severus gave him a scathing look. "What makes you think I would let you have
that much control over me? Do you think I'm stupid?"
"No, just stubborn." Remus walked over to the side of the bed. "This is going
to hurt."
"Most things do," Severus replied bitterly.
Severus sat up more and swung his legs over the edge of the bed with a grunt of
effort. Remus slipped an arm around his shoulders, placed the other on his hip,
and helped the taller man to his feet.
"Watch where you put that," Severus said, glancing down at the hand on his hip.
"Oh, please," Remus snorted, rolling his eyes, but he dropped the hand and took
more of Severus' weight onto his shoulders.
It did hurt, almost enough to make Severus cry out, and the muscles in his legs
were barely able to hold him up. They managed to shuffle down the hall through
a joint effort and maneuvered into the bathroom.
"Do you need help with these?" Remus asked, reaching for the band of Severus'
pants.
Severus jerked away. The jolt caused his already strained muscles to scream in
agony, and he almost slipped on the tiles of the bathroom floor. Remus had to
reach out an arm to steady him.
"Don't be a child. It's not like I haven't seen you naked before. Who do you
think cleaned you up and got you into bed anyway? Trust me, I'm not
interested."
"As though it would make the slightest difference if you were," Severus
sneered. Remus reached for the pants again, and Severus clamped a hand around
his wrist to stop him. "Let me maintain some dignity, Lupin."
"Fine," Remus let his hand fall away. "Can you stand on your own?"
"Probably," Severus said, "for a little while."
Remus unhanded him, but kept his arms up to catch him in case he lost his
balance. Severus managed to strip off the sleep pants, but wasn't sure that he
should be embarrassed that his boxers were gone or relieved that he wouldn't
have to bother trying to get them off without losing his balance and braining
himself on the edge of the tub .
"Are these yours?" Severus asked, letting his distaste seep into his voice as
he handed the pajamas to Remus.
"They were Sirius'," Remus answered with a hint of despair.
Severus was torn between feeling disgusted that anything Sirius Black had ever
owned had touched his genitals (he refused to even consider the likelihood that
they had also touched Black's) or whether to relish the fact that Black would
be rolling in his grave if he knew about it- or that his former lover was
helping his childhood nemesis into the tub, and likely sleeping with his cousin
if the rumors were true.
Severus gasped as he lifted his leg over the edge of the tub, his eyes watered
from the pain, and Remus had to help him lift the other leg and lower him into
the water. Severus let out a contented sigh as he slumped against the porcelain
tub and the warm water served to further soothe his aching muscles. The tips of
his long hair dipped in the water and clung to his skin, and his eyes fluttered
closed.
"Do you think that you can avoid drowning long enough for me to go make a pot
of tea?"
Severus somehow managed to glare at him without opening his eyes.
"Right, I'll take that as a yes. Enjoy your bath, Snape."
Severus was caught in a vortex of coddling, good-natured Gryffindor care giving
for the rest of the afternoon. When he was finally allowed to leave, Remus
insisted on escorting him back to Hogwarts.
"I think I can make it from here," Severus said as they stopped outside of
Dumbledore's office.
"Always a pleasure," Remus said sarcastically, and turned to walk away down the
hall.
"Thank you," Severus called after him. "You would have made an excellent
overbearing mother."
"You're a bastard, Snape," Remus called back.
"Well, I don't see how that can come as a surprise," he muttered to himself as
he took the stairs up to Dumbledore's office.
"You look terrible," Albus said as he limped over to the chair before the desk
and slumped into it. "Though, from what Remus tells me, I should be glad to
even see you upright under your own power."
"I will recover," Severus said, arranging himself in the chair better so that
his weight was more evenly disbursed. "How are you feeling, Albus? Is your hand
paining you again? Do you need more of the potion?"
"You've given me an ample supply." Albus adjusted the sleeve of his robes so
that it would cover his blackened skeletal hand. He did this whenever Severus
asked about it, he had noticed. He assumed that Dumbledore didn't want to show
any weakness, but he hardly thought that was necessary around him. "What do you
have to report?"
Severus shook his head. "Not much," he said, and proceeded to give a detailed
account of the events of the previous night.
"That is unfortunate," Dumbledore said with a long sigh. "Tom will get what he
wants, and you will be back in his good graces, soon enough. I'm sorry that you
had to go to him without anything to show for yourself."
"If going to him with your blood on my hands is the alternative, then I'm not."
"You've given me your word," Dumbledore reminded.
"A fact of which I am keenly aware, Albus," Severus said.
"Then there is nothing left to argue about, my boy."
Severus closed his eyes as the knowledge of what he was expected to do washed
over him- a pain far more acute than anything that could be caused by the
cruciatus.
"Get some sleep, Severus," Dumbledore said in a fatherly tone. "Take the
weekend to recover."
Severus rose to his feet and nodded to Dumbledore, not trusting himself to
speak. He was grateful for the moving staircase; the last thing he wanted was
for Dumbledore to see him struggling with the steps.
Thoughts of raiding his liquor cabinet and sinking into his comfortable sofa
preserved him as he made his way down toward the dungeons. He was about to turn
down a staircase and start heading below ground when he caught a flicker of
movement and heard the whisper of robes over the floor.
"Mr. Potter!"
"Ah shit," Harry turned around to look at Severus and slumped his shoulders.
"What are you doing out of bed at this hour?" Severus asked, rounding on him.
"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to go for a walk."
"And forgot our invisibility cloak, I see. I always knew you thought that the
rules didn't apply to you, but usually that disregard is coupled with at least
the most menial attempts at subterfuge."
"You weren't in class today, so I didn't think I'd need it."
"Ah yes, no doubt any of the other teachers would simply send you back to
Gryffindor Tower with a warning."
"Having a psychopathic murderer out for your skin has its advantages."
"And I would have thought that with that information firmly planted within that
imbecilic skull of yours, you would have the good sense not to wander about the
castle unprotected in the middle of the night."
"I hardly think that I need protection. Hogwarts is the safest place in the
world. The only one that I need to worry about attacking me is Malfoy, and I
think I can handle him."
Severus seethed. "Has it perhaps escaped your attention that The Dark Lord
himself has attacked you twice upon these very grounds and twice more lured you
away from the premises while the school term was in session?"
"And, the last time I checked, I was still the only one who was able to defeat
him, so if he tries it again, exactly who do you suppose is going to stop him?
You don't honestly think that you can protect me from him."
With those words, Severus wanted to wring the boy's stupid neck. After all that
he had done and sacrificed to keep the boy safe the brat had the audacity to
throw it back in his face like that. The worst part was that he had a point.
Sure Severus could try to give him as much ground as he could manage, but in
the end Harry had to stand it. He had to defeat Voldemort himself, and that was
one battle that Severus certainly couldn't fight for him.
"Just give me detention, or take House points, or whatever you're going to do,
but let me be on my way, because I really do just need some time alone to
think." He sounded defeated, and it almost made Severus empathize with the boy-
almost.
"Come with me," he said, and started off towards the dungeons, leaving Harry to
follow in his wake.
"You're limping," Harry observed as he quickly matched Severus' stride,
something he never would have been able to do under normal circumstances.
"You have a keen knack for pointing out the obvious, Potter."
"Why are you limping?" the boy pressed.
"How is that any concern of yours?"
"It's just that I noticed Malfoy leaving the castle last night, and I thought
that if you were limping for the reason that you're usually limping, then that
might prove that he's up to something."
"Mr. Malfoy is none of your concern," he snapped back, but he was caught off
guard by the information. If Malfoy had indeed left the castle last night, then
he must have also had an audience with Voldemort, but the fact that he hadn't
been made privy to this information worried him. Dumbledore's plan was horrible
enough as it was; if Draco were to somehow manage to succeed, to go through
with it, Severus would never be able to forgive himself. He suddenly found his
entire life devoted to protecting teenage boys, and he didn't much care for the
turn.
"So, that is why you're limping then."
"You've experienced the cruciatus yourself, if I'm not mistaken, on more than
one occasion."
The satisfied look on Harry's face fell. "What are you doing out of bed in the
middle of the night after that? I would think that Dumbledore would've given
you the night off from hall patrol."
"I am not on hall patrol. I was on my way back to my private quarters. Running
into you was merely an unpleasant surprise."
"Look, don't bother," Harry said. "You can reprimand me all you want tomorrow;
you really should be in bed."
"However will I survive the good intentions of Gryffindors," Severus muttered.
"I assure you, Mr. Potter, I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, and
after spending all day at Grimmauld Place under the care of the Order's mangy
resident werewolf, the very last thing I want is to get back into bed."
"Was he very angry," Harry asked after a moment of silence, "Voldemort, I
mean?"
"He usually is; it's one of the few emotions that he's still capable of."
"I don't suppose you could tell me anything? I'm starting to feel more and more
out of the loop these days. I know that Dumbledore's leading up to something
with our private lessons, but no one will tell me what's going on right now."
Severus briefly considered lying to the boy, insulting his intelligence or his
importance, but he was just too sore and too tired to bother with anything but
the honest truth. "I wish I could, really. The more information you have, the
better prepared you will be when the time comes. I don't see how anyone can
expect you to put your life on the line when no one is ever completely straight
with you. Unfortunately, Albus is playing things pretty close to the vest these
days, so no, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything."
Harry sighed. "So, what, I'm just supposed to sit obediently on my square until
Dumbledore is ready to play me- just another pawn in his game with Voldemort?"
"Something like that, except it would be a better analogy if you were the king.
If you topple, then the game is over."
Harry snorted. "So what piece does that make you?"
Severus considered his many roles in Dumbledore's camp. In some ways he was
like a pawn, sneaking up on the enemy as a minor threat and then attacking from
behind their defenses with newfound strength. But, his only concern from the
start had been protecting Harry, so if Harry was the king, that would make him
better suited as a rook or a knight. "It is an imperfect analogy," Severus said
finally, unwilling to admit any of this. "But, I suppose I am best matched as
the wand under the table."
"The cheat," Harry said, not really a question, "seeing into Voldemort's head,
anticipating the next move. Yes, that seems about right, maybe not so imperfect
after all?"
"Perhaps," Severus grumbled. He was steadily losing what little strength he'd
managed to gain under Lupin's noisome ministrations. He was ready to slump into
a padded surface with a glass of scotch and something mundane and non-taxing to
read. The last thing he wanted was to be bothered with reprimanding Potter and
assigning him a detention. Perhaps the boy was right; maybe he could leave it
until morning. But no, he refused to show the boy the slightest bit of
favoritism. But wasn't that what this was? He would have sent any other student
scurrying back to their dormitory with a substantial loss of house points and
call it a night, but not Potter. He felt the need to go out of his way to make
the boy's life miserable, since most everyone else went out of their way to
make it easy for the brat. He refused to give Potter any slack; the boy would
undoubtedly strangle himself with it, anyway. That would make Severus' job even
harder. No, he simply couldn't allow it.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked. They'd just passed Severus' classroom and
office.
"My private quarters," Severus answered. "I need another pain potion before I
can decide the best way to punish you- as conventional methods no longer seem
to have any effect whatsoever."
They stopped outside the door, and Severus took a few moments to lower his
wards, before stepping inside and holding the door open to allow Harry to
follow him. He kept no portrait, a few good wards served the same purpose as
the standard gatekeeper, and he was getting much too old to be climbing in and
out of portrait holes.
Harry stopped inside the threshold, clearly out of his element. "Erm, this is
nice sir."
"And, what did you expect? You no doubt would have thought me better suited to
inhabiting some dank cave like the overgrown bat you and your cronies purport
me to be," he said, but he took some pride in the boy's assessment. He'd
salvaged what furnishings he could from Prince Manor: a hulking wreck no longer
worth the ground upon which it stood. They were old and worn, but quite opulent
in a masculine way. He found it comforting to have these relics of his
wizarding heritage. The Prince family had once been as powerful and wealthy as
the Malfoys; the name was still worth something, and if his mother hadn't
pissed it all away on a worthless abusive muggle drunkard, there might have
been some hope for restoring the family to its former glory. But it was too
late now; the Prince line would end with him, and he wasn't entirely bothered
by the fact. To the furniture he'd added a row of heavy oak bookshelves, thick
Persian rugs, and a number of interesting trinkets that he'd picked up during a
series of ingredient gathering expeditions around the world.
"Don't you have any manners at all?" Severus snapped. "Take your boots off. I
won't have you tracking mud everywhere." Severus just dared the boy to say
anything about the fact that he hadn't removed his boots, but to his credit
Potter simply did as he was told.
"Have a seat, but don't touch anything! I'll be a few minutes," Severus said
and limped back to his workroom.
He had to dig through the cabinet for a while before he found what he was
looking for. He downed a pain potion and another muscle relaxant. He leaned
against the low counter that ran the length of his workroom for a few minutes,
waiting for the potions to take effect; he was worried that if he sat down now,
he wouldn't be able to stand back up again, and he still had Potter to deal
with.
His limp was slightly less pronounced as he walked back into the sitting room.
Harry was sitting on the sofa reading one of Severus' books.
"I thought I told you not to touch anything," Severus said, really trying to
sweep threateningly through the room but failing miserably.
"I was bored," Harry answered, utterly unrepentant. "You have a lot of Dark
Arts books."
"I have a lot of Defense Against the Dark Arts books," Severus corrected.
"There is a difference. That should hardly come as a surprise; it is my
subject."
"I didn't mean to imply anything," Harry said, folding the book closed. "Will
you borrow this to me?"
"Lend," Severus corrected. "You lend something to someone, and they borrow it."
"Will you lend it to me then?" Harry asked, as though his complete lack of
grammar were a trivial matter hardly in need of correction.
"Of course not; put it back where you found it," Severus snapped. He walked
over to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of scotch, watching out of the
corner of his eye to make sure that Potter put the book away in the right
place.
He swirled the amber liquid in his glass and looked the boy over. "You've been
having trouble sleeping, Potter?"
"Nightmares," Harry said with a shrug.
"If there is any truth at all in Slughorn's claims as to your newfound
proficiency in potions, then surely you can brew a passable batch of dreamless
sleeping potion."
Harry shook his head.
"Ah, I thought that Horace had to be exaggerating your skills."
"I can brew one," Harry corrected. "I don't want to take it, though."
"Why not?" Severus carefully lowered himself into the armchair, wincing as his
muscles made contact with the firm cushions.
"It makes me feel fuzzy," Harry answered, "and I don't want to get addicted."
Severus could understand that; he'd been fighting off that particular addiction
for the last sixteen years or so. He swirled his scotch again and took a long
drink, relishing the feeling as it burned in his throat. He lowered the glass,
resting it against his knee.
"So you wander the halls in the dead of night, heedless of danger?"
"No, not heedless of the danger, in spite of it, if taking a walk helps me
relax, then it's worth the risk."
Severus downed the rest of his scotch, and tried to get up for another, but
when he tried to push himself up out of the chair his strength gave out and he
fell back again heavily.
"You really are in bad shape," Harry said, standing up easily. "Let me get it."
He took the glass from Severus and filled it half-full from the bottle on the
sideboard before handing it back.
"Why are you being nice to me?" Severus asked suspiciously. "I would think that
you would revel at the opportunity to take advantage of my weakened state."
"Maybe if I was a Slytherin," Harry said with a fluid shrug of his shoulders.
"Gryffindors make a point of helping their allies- whether they like them or
not."
Well, Severus had been given ample enough evidence of that today.
"I've read that massage can help to relax the muscles after the cruciatus."
"I find it hard to believe that you read anything, Potter," Severus snapped at
the inane statement.
Harry scowled. "I was offering to help you out, Snape, but if you're going to
be a bastard about it, then I've changed my mind."
"You were offering to give me a massage?" Severus asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes," Harry said, but he walked away from Severus and sunk back down on the
sofa. "But, weren't you about to dole out some kind of punishment?"
"Is there some kind of punishment which will cause you to respect the rules of
this institution?" Severus asked. He knew that the answer was likely no, but
was interested in what Potter would say.
"You mean, will giving me detention for a month keep me in my dorm at night?"
Severus nodded and took another swallow of scotch.
"Probably not," Harry answered honestly. "It'll just make me be a little more
careful that I don't get caught next time."
Severus let out an exasperated sigh. "I guess that's something, but it doesn't
exactly solve the problem does it, Mr. Potter?"
Harry shrugged. "I hate to break it to you, but I realized a while back that
you don't actually have any authority. The most you can do is assign detentions
and take house points, and that stuff doesn't matter in the long run.
Dumbledore and McGonagall would never agree to expel me. So, do whatever gives
you the most satisfaction, because it doesn't really change anything. But
you're obviously in a lot of pain, so come sit down over here and let me see if
I can help."
The pain potion must have been reacting with the alcohol to affect his
judgment, because all of this seemed perfectly rational, and Severus found
himself obeying. He managed to get out of his chair and across the room to the
sofa without embarrassing himself too much, but spilled most of his remaining
scotch in the process. Potter rose to get him a refill and paused behind the
sofa to hand him the full glass. When Severus had taken it, coaxing his arm to
raise through an effort of will, Potter gently set his hands on Severus'
shoulders and began to carefully massage the abused muscles.
Severus hadn't realized how much pain he was really in until it started to
disappear. The boy actually seemed to know what he was doing. His nimble
fingers moved from one muscle to the next, applying just the right amount of
pressure to work out the knots of tension.
Severus let his eyes flutter shut, and as Potter's fingers worked their way
down to the middle of his back he let out a moan.
Harry's hands stilled, and the boy actually had the gall to chuckle: a soft
warm sound. "No wonder you're so grumpy all the time. If I was walking around
with this much tension in my shoulders, I would be a total git too."
"Shut up and continue what you were doing with your hands."
The massaging started again almost immediately, but the silence only lasted for
a moment. "Did you really want the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, or did
you just apply for it to keep an eye out for students that are thinking of
joining Voldemort?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Hunh?"
"The point of asking a question, Mr. Potter, is to acquire information that is
important to you. Why do you care why I wanted the job?"
Harry was quiet for a while, continuing to massage Severus' back as he
considered it. "I guess it's mostly curiosity. I don't understand why you
wouldn't rather teach Potions. Don't get me wrong. Slughorn's a much better
teacher than you are, but you're obviously the better brewer."
Trust Potter to pair a compliment with an insult. "Slughorn is more than
qualified for his position," Severus said. "He taught me while I was in
school."
"I just don't get why you would rather teach Defense when you're so talented at
Potions. Hermione says that you are one of the best in the world."
"Ms. Granger is seldom wrong, as aggravating as that may be." Severus took
another drink of scotch. "I did want the Defense position. The Dark Lord does
not care which subject I teach, so long as I remain at the school. I have
always had a natural talent for potions, but I have many interests, and having
survived so long as a spy in The Dark Lord's camp should vouch for my skills at
Defensive magic."
"Yes," Harry said, working the flat of his palm against the curve of Severus'
neck just above his collar, "but you don't seem any happier teaching Defense
than you did teaching Potions. "
"It's not about that."
"What is it about then?"
Severus took another drink. "Proving to myself that Albus trusts me, I guess."
"Does he?"
"With his life," Severus answered and drained his glass.
Harry's hands stopped their movement and rested on his shoulders. "Do you want
me to do the legs too?"
Silence sat heavy in the air for a few seconds. Severus looked up at Harry. He
still didn't understand why the boy was being nice to him. He was loathe to let
the boy invade his space any more than he already had, but his legs ached. He
could hardly move the left one at all, and the right one was tensed up like a
rock, muscles spasming every few minutes.
"I'm going to need another glass of scotch," Severus said, holding up his empty
tumbler.
Harry took the glass and went back to the side board. The bottle was beginning
to noticeably empty, but Potter exhibited some instinct for self-preservation
and didn't mention it. He came back around the sofa, handed the glass to
Severus, and knelt on the floor between his feet.
Severus drank his scotch and leaned back into the cushions, watching Harry
warily.
"Which one hurts more?" he asked.
"The right one," Severus said.
Harry nodded, unlaced Severus' boot, and removed it. He slipped off the sock
and set both aside. He started with Severus' big toe, using a thumb to apply
pressure to the arch of his foot as he worked up the calf past the knee. He was
careful with the thigh, working on the muscles while being careful not to stray
towards anything embarrassing. When he finished he moved on to the next leg and
gave it the same treatment.
Severus felt the pain being replaced by a warm tingle as Harry's massage and
the alcohol and potions took full effect. Harry's hand left his hip, and
Severus' eyes fluttered open just in time to see the boy climb into his lap.
Potter was careful not to put any of his weight on Severus, straddling his hips
and sitting high on his knees. Before Severus could say anything, the boy was
wrapping a hand around his neck and leaning forward to kiss him.
Potter's lips were warm and soft, they drew him in, and Severus was kissing
back before he could stop himself. A moment later he could feel the boy's
erection against his stomach, and he was made acutely aware of exactly what he
was doing. He splayed his hand against Harry's chest and pushed the boy off.
"What the hell are you doing, Potter?"
Harry shook himself, eyes widening, and started to blush- which did nothing for
the bulge in his pants. "I don't know," he said, frowning. "You're so ugly."
"Excuse me," Severus scowled.
"See, like that," Harry said, pointing at him. "You're always scowling, and it
makes you look ugly. You just looked so relaxed just then- kinda beautiful."
Severus groaned. He was not in the mood to deal with this. "I thought you were
interested in Ms. Weasley."
"I was," Harry said. "I am." Harry ran his hand through his hair, making it
even messier than usual. "Shit! I need a drink." He walked over to the
sideboard and Severus' bottle of scotch.
"Don't even think about it, Potter."
Harry stopped, looking back at him. "Oh, no, I suppose not." He paused halfway
between the sofa and the armchair, not sure where he should go. He settled for
sitting on the edge of the coffee table. "Can I ask you something, professor?"
"Does it matter if I say no?"
"Not really," Harry said, smiling. "I know you're not my head of house, but I
don't think it would do any good to talk to McGonagall."
"What is it, Potter?"
"What would it mean if I was gay?"
"That would mean that you sexually prefer men," Severus said.
"I don't need a definition, Snape."
"I'm not sure what you're asking."
"For me, what would that mean for me?"
Severus frowned. "You're trying to ascertain what that would mean for you
socially?"
"Well, that's part of it, I guess." Harry had buried his head in his hands. "I
guess, if I am, then I am, but is it going to change things?"
"Some things, I would expect. What are you worried about?"
"What do you think my friends will say?"
"How should I know? They are your friends."
"You're a lot of help, you know," Harry said sarcastically.
"I don't understand why you're asking me."
"Well, you know," Harry hedged.
"Enlighten me."
"Well, because you're gay."
Severus finished off his scotch. "What would give you that idea?"
"You did kiss me back, sir."
"Yes, well, that was an error in judgment. You took me by surprise."
"But, you are; aren't you?" Harry asked.
"I don't really see how that's any of your business." Severus gave him a
piercing glare. He didn't really understand why Potter was talking to him about
this, or why the boy had kissed him for that matter. He hardly believed that
Potter had just suddenly been overcome by his beauty and gotten caught up in
the moment.
"Does that mean you're embarrassed? It's the sort of thing that people get
embarrassed about, right?" Potter seemed unsure of himself.
"Of course it isn't," Severus said, "and I hardly see what difference it should
make to any of your friends, unless you're sleeping with one of them. Ms.
Weasley, on the other hand, might be a little vexed to know that your tastes
run towards the more masculine sex."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to," Severus said.
"Look, I'm not sure if I am or not; I'm just trying to get some advice here."
"I don't understand why you're asking me. Surely there's someone your own age
whom you could ask. The last I recall, the Weasley twins were still sleeping
with anything that moves; I'm sure they would be more than capable of
initiating you into our happy homosexual ranks."
"I… yes, I suppose that they would." This hadn't really occurred to Harry
before, but Snape had a point.
"Then, why bother me with this?"
"I thought that would be obvious," Harry said.
"Again, you'll have to enlighten me. Your particular brand of reasoning is hard
to follow"
Harry bit his lip, unsure for a moment. Before he knew it, Harry was in his lap
again. The boy was pressing his body tight against him, and slipping his tongue
in Severus' mouth. Severus didn't kiss back, but he didn't put a stop to it
either. After a while, when Severus still hadn't responded, Harry broke the
kiss and leaned back.
"Don't you find me attractive at all?" Harry asked, smirking a little. He
pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside.
Harry's naked chest was pale and muscled. It was bare of hair, but very
appealing. Severus felt a stirring of desire, and all thoughts of Potter being
a boy were banished by this alluring show of masculinity.
"You are a student," Severus said, more to remind himself than Potter, "and,
need I remind you, we hate each other?" He gave Harry a little shove, but,
while his pain was all but gone, his strength hadn't returned, and he didn't
manage to unseat him.
"Neither of which answers my question," Harry said. He ground his hips into
Severus'. He still hadn't been hexed or thrown out, so Harry was going to take
that as a good sign.
"I would think that both of those facts would serve to negate said question,"
Severus said, still not at all sure why he hadn't put a stop to all of this.
"I don't hate you," Harry said. "I'm not sure about this whole thing, but I
trust you, and I don't hate you. If anything, I feel sorry for you."
That was enough to make Severus find his strength, and he pushed Potter off of
him as he stood up. His full height towered over Harry, who sat stunned on the
floor. "I do not need your pity, Potter," he spat down at him.
Harry scrambled to his feet. "That's not what I meant," he said quickly. "I
admire you. You're right; I did hate you, but I understand better now. I've
been thinking about it a lot lately, and I think I can see where you're coming
from. You've been sacrificing yourself for the Order, but no one gives you any
credit. You got the short stick, Snape, and it's not fair. I just want to make
it better."
"Life isn't fair. I don't see how some adolescent fumbling with you will serve
to make it any better."
"I know that life isn't fair. Do you think that I've had it so easy?" Harry's
eyes flashed, and Severus felt the beginning of guilt at these words. "I wasn't
offering myself as some kind of compensation." Harry bent over and snatched up
his shirt with as much dignity as he could muster. "I trust you. It's taken a
long time, but I've finally realized that you've never given me any reason not
to trust you completely." He shook his shirt at Severus. "This wasn't about
you. I didn't plan any of this. You were hurt, and I tried to help. I wasn't
expecting to be attracted to you. I just thought…"
"You thought what, Potter?"
Harry looked down. "I thought that maybe you were the only person that I could
really trust not to hurt me." He met Severus' eyes again; he wasn't crying, but
it was a near thing. "Look, I'll just go. I'm being stupid."
He turned to go, and Severus put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Not so fast,
Mr. Potter."
"Oh right," Harry sniffed cynically. "You still need to assign detention. I
suppose I've earned myself two months by now."
Severus shook his head. "If you promise to be careful during your midnight
wanderings, I think we can dispense with the punishment this once. But if I
catch you again, I won't be able to cast a blind eye a second time." Severus
pulled Harry to him and crushed his lips against that soft young mouth.
He felt Harry stiffen against him, but Severus just held him tighter until he
felt him relax into the embrace. Severus still wasn't sure why he was doing
this or how he would feel about it in the morning, but there was no going back
now. The young body rubbing against him was just too inviting. How he could
possibly have any libido to speak of after the last twenty-four hours was
beyond him, and his sore muscles probably wouldn't be thanking him later, but
he could probably coax another massage out of Potter before he kicked him to
the curb, and it had been far too long since he'd had the chance to fully
indulge his desires. If Potter was willing, who was he to argue?
Harry gasped, grinding his erection into Severus' hip.
"I'm not letting you in my bedroom," Severus told him, gripping the tousled
black hair.
Harry whimpered. "Sofa's fine."
Severus sat back down on the sofa, arranging his robes around him, and pulled
Harry back on top of him. Harry straddled his hips once more, unbuttoning
Severus' collar as he trailed kisses down his neck. Severus leaned back into
the sofa, allowing Harry to do as he pleased as long as it felt this good. He
tried not to actually think. The evening had taken a pleasant turn, and
regardless of how horrible he would feel tomorrow, he was going to enjoy
himself as much as he could tonight.
"Take off your outer robes," Harry said, climbing off him to let Severus stand.
Severus did as he was asked, wobbling a little as he unfastened his robes. He
folded them neatly and set them down on the coffee table.
"Take off your trousers," Severus countered, as he finished unbuttoning his
collared black shirt. He stopped to watch Harry take off the rest of his
clothes with all the reckless abandon of youth, and toss them into a pile where
his shirt lay fallen on the floor. Potter's legs were as pale and muscular as
his chest with the same absence of hair. The dark nest of pubic hair around his
plump straining cock was a stark contrast to that pallor. Severus was pleased
to see that Harry was actually quite well endowed. Not that it should matter
much, as he had no intention of letting the boy enter him.
"As you are as yet unsure whether you are in fact a homosexual, I'm going to
presume that you haven't done this before," Severus said, waving a hand at the
wall sconces to dim the lights.
"No, I'm not a virgin, but I've never…" Harry trailed off.
Severus summoned the lubricant from his bedside table; it soared through the
air and hit his palm with a satisfying thwack. "Relax," he said, as Harry
tensed at the sight of the lube. "This is going to be enjoyable, and it should
clear up any questions you have as to your sexual preferences."
Harry nodded and swallowed thickly. "Do you want me to, er…" he glanced at the
sofa uncertainly, "lay down, or what?"
Severus sighed. "Don't think," he said, pulling Harry against his body again.
"That should be easy for you." He covered Potter's lips with his own, easing
them apart with the tip of his tongue, and plundering the sweet young mouth.
"It will all come naturally."
Harry closed his eyes and thrust his hips against Severus'. Potter was shorter
than he was, and the movement nudged pleasantly at the end of Severus'
erection. "Take off my trousers," he said, easing back onto the sofa. "I want
you to suck my cock."
Harry's eyes flew open at these words, and he froze for a moment, before he
swallowed and fell back to his knees between Severus' legs. He removed the
trousers carefully, sliding them down over Severus' hips without jarring his
sore muscles. Potter didn't have any idea what he was doing, and his technique
was abysmal, but he made up for it with all the enthusiasm of youth. He started
tentatively at first, sucking gently at the tip of Severus' swollen head, then
he went a little deeper, managing to suck down a little more of Severus' length
with each bob of his head. He could feel Potter's throat contracting around him
as Harry fought back his gag reflex. The sensation sent ripples of pleasure
through him, and Severus had to grip his hands firmly in the tousled black hair
to keep from thrusting into the inviting warmth of Potter's mouth. He moaned.
Harry pulled back a little and looked up at Severus' enraptured face. His
cranky old Potion's master really was quite beautiful when he wasn't scowling.
It didn't matter that he wasn't teaching Potions anymore, that was the way
Harry would always think of him: hair tied back, long fingers deftly adding
ingredients as the man leaned over a steaming cauldron. For some reason, the
image sent a surge of desire through his body, and his cock began to ache. He
ignored it, reveling in the smell and feel as he did his very best to swallow
down every inch of his professor's considerable manhood.
Severus forced his hand to uncurl from Harry's hair, and placed it on the boy's
shoulder, squeezing slightly. "You have to stop now," he rasped.
Harry pulled back quickly. "Did I hurt you?" He put his hand to his mouth. "Was
it my teeth?"
"No, your teeth were fine," Severus said. "I was getting too close." He let out
a long breath and tried to steady himself. The sight of Potter kneeling between
his legs, somehow looking innocent and debauched at the same time, wasn't
helping him to hold back any.
"Close?" Potter looked confused.
"To coming in your mouth you imbecile," Severus snapped; that helped a little.
"Come here," he reached down, and urged the boy up into his lap. He reached
over for the lubricant and squirted a generous dollop onto his fingers as the
impetuous brat frotted against him, but stopped suddenly as Severus reached
behind and slipped two fingers into his tight opening.
"Oh," Potter said in surprise, eyes wide. Then, with a little more enjoyment,
"Ohhh."
Severus moved his fingers in a circle, pushing in further and making room for a
third. As he struck upon Potter's prostate, Harry thrust back onto the fingers
and moaned deeply. Severus rubbed against it again, getting the same reaction.
Then he removed his hand, added more lubricant and coated himself liberally
with a few efficient jerks of his hand.
Severus considered the angle. "You're going to have to lean back more, Harry,"
he said, the name slipping out easily. "Grab onto the back of the sofa with one
hand, and rest your weight on the other one." He moved Harry's hand to rest
against the sofa cushion where it met his hip beneath them. Harry quickly
complied with these instructions, angling his pelvis up to meet Severus' cock.
He guided it in slowly, using all his concentration to maintain completely
control as Potter's tight body engulfed him.
There was a short moment of stillness, and then Potter's instincts and his
childish need for instant gratification took over, and Harry began thrusting
himself onto Severus' cock.
The sensations were overwhelming, and Harry decided that if it was always like
this, he would swear off girls altogether. Then, all capacity for coherent
thought went right out the window as he gave way to wild abandon and thrust
himself onto Severus in search of that flash of fiery pleasure that rushed
through him every time he canted his hips just right.
They didn't last long. Severus curled a wet hand around Harry's cock and moved
it in time with his thrusts. He felt Potter come in his hand just as he
couldn't hold back any longer, and they rode out their orgasm together clinging
tightly to each other in a sticky tangle of pale limbs and dark hair.
When their heavy breathing had evened out a little and they had disentangled,
Harry stretched out next to Severus on the sofa and rested his head in the
hollow of the older man's shoulder.
"Can I stay here tonight?" he asked. "Just for a while, I'll sneak out before
morning."
"Fine," Severus said, already feeling his eyes begin to drift closed. He knew
that he was going to regret this whole night by the sober light of day, but for
now he was content to bask in the afterglow with a warm body curled against
him. How that body happened to be Harry bloody Potter was a source of complete
amazement to him, but stranger things had happened, he supposed. Not a lot, but
there had to be some.
 
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