A Most Trusted Soldier | By : Rettavex Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 58682 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Once again, a shout-out to Slyth, my beta for the hard, selfless work. My son says: tdha! thdha! unk!, which I translate as "THANKS MY ADORING PUBLIC!" hee hee.
The following week passed in relative ease for the two budding companions. Their days were spent at the homestead with Severus making potions or reading, while Harry continued renovations on the house and grounds, or made the odd trip to the Ministry to consult about the Auror training curriculum.
Severus was quite taken aback by how comfortable he and Harry had become in such a short span of time, but when he thought further about it he realized it made perfect sense. Harry was no stranger. They had known one another for seventeen years, and despite the mutual disdain they had once shared the two of them had also spent a not insignificant portion of those years saving each other’s lives. They shared a history more entwined than some couples that had been married fifty years. Who managed the money and who changed the nappies were laughable, petty matrimonial arguments when they had been dealing with questions like who to kill and how undetectable could they make the spell.
When Severus mentioned his surprise at their camaraderie Harry had chuckled and told Severus that aside from Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort, that it was Severus who had probably had the most profound impact on his development as a man and a wizard. That statement had replayed itself in Severus’ mind nightly as he lay in bed waiting for sleep to consume him. The thought that he had contributed to Harry becoming the man he was today acted as a balm for his wounded pride, easing the sense of failure Severus had often felt when he thought about his effectiveness as a teacher. It had been hard to be fully committed as a professor when he had life-threatening duties elsewhere.
Each day the two men went about their respective business, coming together for meals and impromptu, relaxed chats. By the end of the first full week living together they had come to know a great deal about each other. They had each asked questions that ranged from the mundane to the embarrassing to the dark and shameful.
Harry now knew that Severus liked to take a minimum of two showers per day and had a soft spot for turtles—he admired their tenacity.
“You’ve got to admire an animal that despite the arduousness of the journey makes it anyway. Turtles are steady and determined, and I doubt they complain about not being able to get to their destination faster,” Severus stated when Harry let out a small laugh at his choice of favorite animal.
Harry had only smiled apologetically, which seemed to be enough to thwart Severus’ ire. Harry thought Severus felt a kindred spirit with the turtle due to its natural defense system, but let his opinion remain unspoken. Much like the turtle, Severus had been using his own impenetrable outer shell for years to hide within. It intrigued Harry to no end that Severus was willing to come out of his proverbial shell for him.
Harry also learned that Severus would not eat the crusts of sandwich bread, and had been forced— lest he be seen as disloyal to the Death Eaters— to participate in the gang rape and torture of a captured female Auror during the first war. Severus still visited her grave each year on the anniversary of that cruel night.
Severus discovered that Harry always woke at dawn, as he liked to walk barefoot in the dewy grass at first light. He learned that Harry was allergic to coconut, killed Pettigrew in cold blood, smoked an obscene amount of reefer when he was stressed, and had slept with Charlie Weasley multiple times while he was still dating Ginny. When Severus asked why, expecting some angst-ridden tale about drunkenness and unrealized sexual preferences, Harry shocked him by stating without mirth or any obvious regret, “I fucked him because he was hotter than his sister.” The end.
And so it went. Day after day they toiled, talked, ate, shared secrets and dreams. It was all very fascinating and informative, but to Severus’ displeasure they had not shared a single kiss or caress since the night he arrived to stay. The closest to intimate contact they had come was during the rather anticlimactic invoking of Severus’ Right of Fides the following night. This particular part of the ritual required them to stand shirtless and flush back to back. It was the section of the Right that ensured that Severus could not seriously physically harm Harry under any circumstances. Even the Imperious curse could not undermine this aspect of the bond and it was just one of the reasons Severus had always been Dumbledore’s most trusted soldier.
Since invoking Severus had felt far more himself. He was once again steady, sure, and not so quick to become shaken or undone. It no longer felt like his nature would over take him. And despite his increasing desire for Harry he had thankfully not lost control of his thrall again. He found his mental acuity had returned, along with his unflappable cool, which helped his patience on the lack of sex a great deal. It also relieved him that he had stopped playing the village idiot every time an unexpected statement came out of Harry’s mouth.
However, by week two things began to change. Gone was the easy camaraderie and relaxed evenings spent in each other’s company. Harry had apparently been replaced by a ghoul, given his propensity to skip meals, grunt, sleep, and be an all around grouchy bastard when Severus entered the same room. Soon after this curmudgeon behavior began Harry took to rising early and departing for parts unknown before Severus woke, returning late into the evening and sequestering himself in his rooms. After six days of barely catching a glimpse of Harry, Severus woke to find a highly agitated, unkempt Harry pacing like a caged tiger in front of the door to his rooms. Those green eyes glistening with barely restrained madness. Severus could see that despite being fully awake Harry was barely focusing on anything, his eyes darting around like some hyped-up dope fiend.
“You need to leave,” Harry nearly shouted at Severus, who stood just inside the open door to his rooms.
“Beg your pardon?”
“Hogwarts. Go,” was the barked response he received.
In a normal situation, Severus thought, he would have been inclined to make some scathing remark about Harry’s lack of manners and pathetic imitation of a Neanderthal. Yet, now was not the time. The residual inhibiting potion in Harry’s system was almost gone. Severus had done the calculations; based on Harry’s weight and the dosage he had been on Severus could have almost predicted this moment to the hour. He had been meaning to warn Harry and help him prepare for this feeling but had been unable to catch the slippery wizard for days.
“Harry, calm yourself,” Severus said in his most stern professorial voice. “This is normal, you are only about a day or two maximum away from the first day of breeding.”
Harry stopped his rampant pacing and turned to Severus with eyes blazing.
“I know what the fuck it is! You will go. Get your shit and Floo to Hogwarts. It is no longer safe for you here,” Harry snapped before brushing past Severus and into the room. Once inside he began waving his hands frantically, summoning clothes and books, which packed themselves into a trunk at wind speeds.
“Harry, stop. I’m not going. You need me to help record any changes you may be experiencing so that we can formulate a plan to help you deal. This will be lifelong, Harry. You can’t just lock yourself away like Lupin during the full moon. It won’t work. You’ll end up pulling your own dick off or some such lunacy,” Severus boomed.
“I can help, Harry. Let me do what I… I need to be here, with you,” Severus added softly.
“The hell you’re not going! You are my submissive and I want you to go, you lanky, infuriating bastard,” Harry hissed.
The voice reminded Severus eerily of Voldemort, yet it lacked the Dark Lord’s sinister timbre. Never one to take his safety for granted, Severus took a few paces backward, surreptitiously slipping his wand from its holster up his sleeve and into his hand. Merlin forbid he had to stun Harry but he was fully prepared to if needed. He was not leaving; he belonged here and he was determined not to let Harry’s fear cast him out like some timid, virgin bride.
“I’ve made a contraceptive, Harry. It will be fine. I will have to participate in breeding at some point you know. Don’t make this difficult,” Severus explained quickly, his words rushing forth like air out of a popped balloon.
Harry didn’t seem affected by Severus’ rationale and was apparently playing by different rules. Before Severus could dodge Harry rushed him, tackling the taller wizard to the ground and binding him with a nonverbal spell in the blink of an eye. Just as his Severus was working his own nonverbal spell to undo the binding, Harry snatched his wand away, lobbed the taller man over his shoulder like a sack of wheat and Apparated them both to the downstairs parlor. Severus’ trunk sailed down the stairs and skidded roughly into the unlit fireplace. Harry unceremoniously dumped a still bound Severus onto the hearth as well, giving him a withering glare as he grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the mantle and flung it in.
“Hogwarts Infirmary,” Harry yelled, before green flames sprung up to whisk Severus away.
Severus could feel the binding spell beginning to fade as Harry’s face, contorted with indignation, disappeared as he was sucked away. He didn’t even have the opportunity to shout at Harry for failing to return his wand. Now I know the meaning of the disgusting Muggle phrase, ‘up shit creek without a paddle’.
A crash, followed by a muffled grunt of pain had Madame Pomfrey charging out of her office, wand gripped tightly and ready to do battle with all manner of nasty hexes and painful injuries. The wide-hipped woman bustled into the main wing of the infirmary to see a sooty, rumpled Severus Snape lying in a very undignified heap on the floor just past the Floo.
“Severus! What in heavens…” the matron trailed off and froze mid-stride as Severus rose up on his elbows and leveled a glare at her that could melt off skin.
“I’ll… just be in my office then,” she said quickly, before pivoting and heading back in the direction she came.
Normally Severus Snape’s infamous glare would have been brushed aside by the no-nonsense mediwitch, but something in those eyes told her that today was not the day to go toe-to-toe with the snippy professor. Besides, she had been able to have a quick once over at the man and noticed nothing that appeared life threatening.
Severus, pride stinging and anger roiling in his belly, stood and brushed himself off. He lamented the fact that he did not have his wand to help him with the finer detail of removing the soot and setting his clothes to rights. One side of his brain was cursing Harry so hard he was sure the man’s soul was being sucked out by mere thought alone; yet, another part not as loud but no less persistent, was afraid, worried, and alone. Severus had known since the beginning that breeding was going to be a battle, and by the bruise he felt smarting on his tailbone it would be a battle in more ways than one.
Loathe though he was to seek out another person for help, Severus had been in two wars and knew the value of allies. He needed a new one if he was to save Harry from going through another, and likely more painful, breeding season without a mate; he would need the help of the one woman who could perhaps jeopardize all his goals.
There was nothing for it though. Surmising that Harry had already locked the Floo and temporarily reset the wards to prevent his return, Severus steeled himself in preparation for his latest undertaking.
Not bothering to reassure Madame Pomfrey of his wellbeing he stalked out of the infirmary and back to the cool comfort of his beloved dungeons. Once back in his quarters Severus called a Hogwarts elf to gather his belongings from the infirmary and bring them back to his rooms, but stressed to the little elf not to unpack a thing. He would not be here long at all if his plan worked out. Then Severus scribbled a note and headed up to the Owlery.
Stepping carefully around owl droppings as one would mini landmines, Severus called down his favorite, a small, sharp-eyed, spotty grey. The owl was young but fast and had taken a liking to Severus. The little bird would often fly out to hoot a hello whenever Severus happened to be walking around the school grounds.
The speckled, ash-colored owl landed on Severus’ forearm, digging its claws in only enough for stability.
“See that this gets delivered immediately, please. No stopping for snacks, yes. Wait for a reply. When you return with said reply I will give you a bit of those marinated artichokes you like,” Severus said to the little owl, tying the small scroll quickly and securely onto the proffered leg.
“Off you go, Hector. Remember, no stops.”
The small owl gave a soft hoot and took off, soaring ever higher. Severus let out a sigh, wondering just how long he would have to wait for an audience with his letter’s recipient. As Hector became a smaller dot in the sky, Severus exited the Owlery and headed back to his chambers intending to wash off the soot, change his clothes and have a small nap. With any luck Hector would return and by evening he would be back where he now had no doubts he belonged— with Harry.
The somewhat dimwitted waiter had only just brought the tea service and appetizers that Severus had ordered, when a soft, airy voice floated a “Hello, Professor” behind him.
Turning to face the voice, Severus found himself staring at the delicate-boned face of Luna Lovegood, who was looking just as distracted and vacant as ever.
“Miss Lovegood. Thank you for meeting with me,” Severus said smoothly as he rose to pull out a chair for the blonde witch.
“Anything for Harry,” Luna replied as she sat down, all grace and poise, if a bit proletarian.
Severus reseated himself and poured them each a cup of tea. “I took the liberty of ordering starters and tea. I hope that was alright.”
“That was very forward thinking of you, Professor. Thank you,” Luna said, taking up her cup and sipping the hot tea.
Silence cloaked the air around them, each one waiting for the other to speak. After seconds that felt like hours, Severus forwent all pretense of dignity and asked without preamble, “Are you still fucking Potter?”
Luna stared at him with something akin to shock, but not quite. The eyes failed to show true astonishment. Luna didn’t do shocked, at least not convincingly. She did however blink those impossibly large baby-blue/green eyes exaggeratedly slow, before an alarmingly crafty little smirk changed her face from a look of pure innocence to one that was coquettish and slightly sinister.
“Professor, that seems an awful personal question. Am I to assume that by your wondering if I am…um fucking…Harry, that you in turn are not?” Luna replied snottily, as quality that before this very moment Severus would have never associated with the hitherto inattentive witch.
A long-dormant warning bell went off in Severus’ head. It alerted him that he had miscalculated and misjudged. Warned him to change tactics or risk catastrophe. It was the internal warning mechanism that had served him well as a Death-Eater— inactive for a time but apparently still accurate.
“No, I am not. Now will you answer me?” Severus snarled.
“No.” Luna said sternly, her posture rigid. “It is none of your business. Anything that has or will occur between Harry and I is just that, between Harry and I.”
“Very well, but I will have you know that Harry is in trouble.”
“So your letter said, yet you failed to explain,” Luna replied impatiently.
“I trust he has told you that he has gone off the potion?”
Luna nodded.
“Well, it seems breeding is upon him. He has thrown me out and warded his home against me for the duration,” Severus said bitterly, his ass aching where he had been so carelessly dropped.
Amazingly the pale witch became even paler, which pleased Severus greatly. Now he was getting somewhere.
“He shouldn’t be alone. I’ve tried to tell him over the years, but… well, you know Harry. He would rather AK himself than hurt a friend,” Luna said in her characteristic airy manner, all traces of deviousness and mockery vanished.
If Severus didn’t know better he could assume that the young woman suffered from some type of multiple personality disorder. Yet, Harry’s description of Luna was scarily accurate, the woman wore a very convincing mask. Clever girl. The quirky little witch had fooled Severus into thinking of her as purely eccentric and oft-confused— and being a master of the con himself, Severus was damned hard to fool. He found himself begrudgingly impressed.
“Then let’s start where we agree. Harry should not be alone. I have tried to convince him to let me stay to no avail. He was quite…adamant. I am curious if you would help me circumvent his self-imposed isolation,” Severus stated.
There it was again, that fleeting sly cut of the eye and mischievous quirk of the lips. Very Slytherin indeed, Severus thought with awe.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, it is unlikely that Harry, in his current state, has had the foresight to exclude other friends from his wards. I estimate he is about twenty hours away from full onset, which means he is probably humping the banister as we speak. I take it you have carte blanche?” Severus asked with one eyebrow raised.
“One of only six. Myself, Hermione, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, and the two elves,” Luna replied.
“Good. Then you can get me back on the property and into the house. Once there I can perhaps use a stronger power of persuasion to convince him to let me stay and enter into breeding with him,” Severus said, reclining back and gracefully crossing one leg over the other at the knee.
Luna gave Severus a calculating once over, obviously weighing the viability of the plan.
“If Harry is as close to breeding as you claim even seeing a potential mate will likely set off the Amoral in him. I doubt much persuasion will be needed. I know all about you being Dark Sought, Professor. Harry will not thank you for using a thrall on him. Luckily for you I doubt it will be needed anyway. So, do yourself a favor and resist the urge to cast it on him, “ Luna said before popping a mini cucumber sandwich into her mouth.
Severus nodded and followed suit, choosing a buttery croissant from the tray.
“Harry hates the idea of having his choices made for him. You will be treading thin ice as it is by showing up after he made you leave. If you know nothing about Harry know this: Harry’s trust and love is easily gained, with him having grown up with so little of both in his life. But once lost, it is gone forever. He will not cast aside one he loves trivially, but given no other choice he will banish a traitor to his heart faster than you can say ‘sorry’,” Luna said in an ominous tone, her face as serious as death.
“This is no game to me, Miss Lovegood. I swear upon my magic that I am not out to harm Harry or take advantage of him in a moment of weakness,” said Severus. “I …want to take care of him,” he added, his words a bit stilted.
Luna’s eyes, like blue-green sea algae, raked over him as thought performing a deep scan, penetrating to his very marrow. Satisfied after careful observation, Luna agreed to ‘lend a hand’, as she put it.
“I will get you to the threshold, but must leave you to enter the house alone,” she explained.
“That is fine, but are you afraid to enter the house for some reason?” Severus asked a bit perplexed.
“Oh, nothing like that. I could never fear Harry. It is just that if we both enter he would be confused, I think. He has been extremely intimate with me, Professor,” Luna said unashamedly and without boast.
“If he saw two potential mates it could send him into some type of vicious overdrive. Plus, we could not be certain which of us he would choose as a primary mate. It would have nothing to do with Harry’s preferences, but whom the Amoral thought the better breeding partner was. I am very close to my menses and it is possible that because I am currently fertile the Amoral would chose me as a better mate than you despite the fact that you are the stronger wizard both physically and magically.”
Well, that was as concise an explanation as Severus could have hoped for. Regrettably, it also contained far more information about the female in front of him than he had ever wanted to know. Severus was however grateful that the young woman had the forethought to avoid such a scenario, yet was curious as to why she would not jump at the opportunity to father children and bond with the ‘Man-who-saved-all-their-asses’.
Luna noticed the intense, questioning expression on her former professor’s face and decided to release the man from his own over analysis.
“The answer is no,” Luna said quietly.
“Excuse me?” Severus said, pulled from his thoughts.
“No, Harry and I are not currently fucking,” Luna said matter-of-factly, a small smile on her lips.
“I see.”
“No, you don’t,” she said motioning for the dimwitted waiter to refill their teapot. After the affable, if slow man ambled away to complete his task, Luna leaned back in her chair and cleared her throat.
“I love Harry, make no mistake. But I am not his destiny. He knows that and I know that. There are deep, complicated emotions there, but we both know that in the long run we are not what the other needs. I am not in love with him and he is not in love with me. We have, or rather had sex, very good sex, but that was all it was. So, you need not feel threatened, Professor.”
Severus wanted to blast the young woman for daring to presume that he would feel threatened by the likes of her. The audacity of the suggestion had him salivating to put her in her proper place—beneath his boot. Still, the painfully honest part of him asserted itself. Luna was right; Severus had felt threatened by her relationship with Harry despite all his efforts to the contrary. Then when Harry began disappearing for long stretches of time Severus had worried that his longed-for lover was seeking physical comfort from the witch, reverting back to sating himself with that smooth skin and those curvy hips.
Relief washed through him as Luna’s words took root. He had been worried that Harry would prefer the much lighter personality Luna provided, unmarred by the taint of death and darkness. Still, he had hoped at the very least that the woman would not insinuate herself between them as a roadblock; that he would not be forced to grapple with her over Harry’s affections.
He may no longer be succumbing to verbal idiocy, but what Severus felt at this moment could not be put into words. He was incapable of speaking the due gratitude for what Luna had given him. Indeed he could have waged all out battle with the woman if things had been different—and likely won— but that would have curried no favor with Harry. Instead, Luna acted as a perfect lady and friend, silently stepping aside and clearing the path between Severus and Harry.
Severus settled for allowing his eyes to speak for him, the windows through which every inch of his soul could be visible if he so allowed. In return, Luna gave him a wan smile. In that moment Severus knew he had gained a new ally and possible friend. A person with whom he could compare notes on Harry without worry that the information would be used to harm or usurp. Yes, Luna Lovegood had revealed herself and Severus liked the person he saw.
Luna slowly turned the brass knob of the door, pushing it open slightly so that Severus could squeeze his long, slender form through. As the older man entered the house he paused to give the smirking woman a genuine smile and a hushed ‘thank you’ before entering fully and closing the door behind him.
The house was deathly quiet, but a pungent scent permeated the air. It smelled like burnt cloves with an undercurrent of bergamot. Pheromone the scientist in him guessed. Never mind the fact that his dick was instantaneously hard as cement. He was slightly amused by the reaction and wondered how long his trousers could remain in tact under the strain.
Calling upon his years spent as a spy and the skills honed stalking horny curfew-breakers, Severus peered carefully into the empty kitchen and then the study, before making his way soundlessly up the stairs. As he reached the second floor landing he was internally congratulating himself on his stealth when a loud screech filled the air.
“Blasted owl,” Severus growled at Harry’s hyper-protective tawny, Argyle, who was circling overhead like a plane about to drop rations.
He heard the door to Harry’s rooms open, followed by the soft shuffling of feet coming in his direction. Gathering his courage he summoned his wand, which flew from the direction of his own set of rooms and reached him only seconds before Harry came into view. As the wand smacked comfortably against his palm, Severus made eye contact with the sexiest sight he had ever seen.
A barefoot, shirtless Harry Potter stood but a few feet away wearing only a pair of light blue, gauzy, drawstring, lounge pants. Severus could just make out a darker patch in the crotch that alerted him to the fact that Harry wore nothing underneath. This little tidbit near made him come on the spot, knowing that all he had to do was grab that tiny string and the garment would go tumbling down those Quidditch toned thighs, revealing a prize so terribly worth having.
Harry’s skin glistened faintly with sweat and glowed a ruddy gold as if reflecting firelight. His hair, ever messy, clung to his forehead and the nape of his neck in small, damp swirls. And those eyes— they were blazing and vivid, and just as Severus had dreamed slightly dilated with lust.
Harry stopped in his tracks when he saw Severus. He gazed longingly at Severus as if trying to decipher if he was an apparition or real. His barely trembling lips hung apart as he continued taking stressed breaths in through the mouth and out through the nose, breathing like an overtaxed dragon. Severus could see a thin level of tears forming atop Harry’s bottom eyelid. Whether they were tears of elation or tears of grief Severus could not be sure.
Severus inhaled deeply, savoring the scent that marked Harry’s arousal. It was heady and intoxicating, and left Severus feeling a little dazed and hungry for something far more necessary than food. He watched as those green eyes went from confusion to disbelief to anger and finally a type of welcomed resignation. Severus’s heart was thumping wildly in his chest as he waited for Harry to speak, kiss him, or curse him. It was like the edge of a knife had pressed itself against his heart and for the life of him Severus couldn’t decide whether it would be more merciful to plunge forward or pull it away.
“You’re here,” Harry finally spoke in a dry, raspy voice. Though Severus was hard pressed to decide if Harry was asking a question or merely stating an obvious fact.
The willowy wizard didn’t answer, but watched instead as Harry’s perfect pink tongue darted out to moisten those parched, full lips. Severus remembered back to the soul-searing kiss he and Harry had shared two weeks prior, in almost this very same location. How apropos he thought, that they would return to this spot for this pivotal moment. They were like two miscreants returning to the scene of some crime to confess their sins and serve out their punishment.
Severus nodded distractedly and made a small motion toward Harry, who gasped and took a tiny, half step backwards.
“You must be sure, Severus,” Harry said, his voice full of anguish and a type of pain Severus could not quite describe.
“I am nothing if not sure, Harry. I’m here, even after you forced me away. That should tell you something,” Severus said, silently praying to every deity he had ever heard of that his words would register as Harry looked close to becoming delirious. He just hoped that if Harry did succeed in kicking him out again that he was dropped on a different body part and got to keep his wand.
Severus heard an audible gulp from the topless man a few mere feet from him, as Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When those eyes reopened Severus knew as surely as he knew the properties of Wolfsbane that one way or another he would be claimed this night and he would be forever changed at the outcome.
Harry gave a menacing glare before closing the gap between them in three swift strides. Just as he got close enough for their bodies to touch, Severus noticed Harry’s eyes had turned another color. They were now a pale moss ringed in deep amber. Before he could surmise why Severus felt slightly calloused knuckles connect with his left cheek as Harry backhanded him hard across the face, causing Severus to stagger backwards before he fell, his head connecting with the wall as he fell to the hall floor.
“You shouldn’t have come back, but since you are here let’s play,” Harry said in a dangerous voice Severus had never heard before. It was rougher, deeper and had a vibrating quality that was like a troop of spiders scurrying over rotting, hollow wood.
Severus’ face stung like someone had poured hot oil on it, but he knew that he was not seriously harmed. He would have a nasty bruise for sure, but Severus knew how to rebound from pain in a flash courtesy of the Death Eater school of hard knocks. As soon as he hit the floor he lifted his wand arm and cast a nonverbal Impedimenta, sending Harry flying backwards into the opposite wall. Severus heard Harry’s body connect with the wall in a sickening cacophony of sound. He guessed a few of the wall scones and photos came down with that hit.
Harry was apparently made of rubber because almost as soon as Severus got his feet beneath him, a wild, aggressive Harry came hurtling at him. With an ‘oompf’ he found himself pinned beneath the raving Amoral as they began to thrash and wrestle, kick and scratch, one or the other landing an occasional blow to the gut, thigh or head. They were a mass of flying elbows, strategically placed knees, and short, effective jabs. Grunts, howls, hisses, and gasps of pain riddled the air in a macabre staccato as they continued their mutual assault in earnest. Each one gave as good as they got; never turning their back for long out of respect their opponent’s skill and unpredictability. That had been their motto in training during the war. Be unpredictable to one’s opponent; change hexes, fighting style and attack strategy often lest the enemy pin you down and call a premature end to the game called life.
It was a strangely sensual, if brutal fight, full of hyper-masculinity and pent-up emotion. For every smack or slap there was a bite or cruel squeeze that hurt in the most delicious way. Each time one managed to pin the other their groins managed to connect and a few frantic moments of frottage would transpire, leaving both impossibly harder and aching. At one point Severus found himself pinned face down as Harry dry humped his ass, all the while spewing nasty, erotic commentary regarding ways in which Severus would service him. Severus didn’t know what the hell felching was, but was eager as a child at a carnival to try it.
Still, the conflict raged on. Within minutes they had managed to pummel one another down the stairs and into the parlor, scorch marks and a partially demolished banister left in their wake. Severus thought for certain he heard a rib crack on their way down the stairs, but then again that may have been his wrist as he uppercut his young dom. Streaks of blood littered the walls where one or the other had grabbed for purchase on the way down, evidence of their brutish scuffling.
By now Severus’ robes, what was left of them, hung from his body in irreparable shreds. He managed to fling the tattered bits of garment off, leaving behind only his trousers and a torn oxford that was barely clinging to his sweaty frame by a few buttons. His chest was covered in welts and bite marks and he was pretty sure his ankle was badly sprained. Harry looked just as bad, Severus noted with a bit of glee. Harry had been right. Youth and agility worked in the younger man’s favor, but Severus had decades of dueling and insight into Harry’s fighting style on his side.
The young Amoral was sporting a nice shiner that had his right eye nearly completely closed. Based on where his last punch landed and the way Harry was currently clutching his flank Severus guessed Harry might be pissing blood by morning. They’d be lucky if they could avoid St. Mungo’s at this rate. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey would heal them both if he apologized nicely, Severus’ inner monologue digressed, before an animated fern stand stuck out a leg to trip him. Severus deftly sidestepped the menacing piece of furniture as he and Harry continued to circle one another like two bulls.
Luckily Hermione had been right and they had both managed to keep any magic used fairly harmless. Severus had given Harry some minor burns and was sure the Stinging hex had been a little harsher than he had intended. Harry had thus far only used magic to deflect Severus’ magic or to try to render him immovable. Yet, as every muscle in his body screamed for a painkiller and a warm bath, Severus wondered if he would not have preferred a solely magical duel. Based on Harry’s breathing, Severus could tell that the green-eyed man was quickly recovering from the Suffocation hex he had thrown a few minutes earlier.
“Severus, come,” Harry rasped, throwing out a hand and summoning his prey.
To summon an entire person, especially one as tall as Severus took a great deal of power and concentration. Apparently Harry was still lucid despite his hormonal state. Severus could do little to prevent himself from flying bodily across the room and into Harry’s grasp. As soon as he landed in Harry’s open arms, Severus was spun his back to Harry’s front, a powerful forearm draped across his throat before he was forcibly bent over the back of the sofa, which now sported a charred arm and sliced cushions.
Severus felt battered and exhausted, knowing that they had only been at this brawl for what was possibly twenty hard-charging minutes.
“Open says me,” Harry said in that same mocking, rough voice that could shatter glass, insinuating a knee between Severus’ long, black-clad legs and biting down on the man’s shoulder. “That’s gonna leave a lovely bruise, pet,” Harry added as he began massaging the globes of Severus’ ass with one hand and running the other up and down the professor’s spine beneath his tattered shirt.
Severus desperately wanted to give in. He hurt and ached and wanted and needed. He was exhausted and full to bursting with conflicting emotions. Half of him wanted to Crucio his lover where the other half wanted to fall to his knees as suck Harry’s cock clean off.
Fighting had always made him horny, and fighting with a lover, well, it was sublime. The younger man’s stamina did not seem to be waning while Severus felt near a heart attack if he had to go many more rounds. Still, the former Death Eater was prideful and hated to be beaten. Though he knew deep down he could not overtake Harry Something inside him made him give one more push for victory.
Severus jerked up swiftly, banging Harry in the face with the back of his head. He heard a satisfying crack and turned to see Harry clasp a hand over a bloody nose, blinking his watery green eyes rapidly.
“Wanna fuck me do you, Potter? Hmm? So eager to diddle me. My, my what would your public think,” Severus taunted, unable to resist the anger that was rolling off Harry in waves. Severus allowed himself a small moment of indulgence and reached out for the angry wizard’s magic. It was torrid and turbulent. It scalded, forcing Severus to reel his nature back inward. He smiled a satisfied little smile, still clutching onto the sofa behind him with both hands. It wasn’t safe to poke a wild animal with a stick when you were in its lair, but Severus felt safety was overrated in this moment. Danger was where the action was. It prickled at his skin and set his instincts on edge.
“I won’t give it to you. Earn. It.—Win. It,” Severus challenged, then raised a fist and cuffed Harry hard on side of the face, forcing the younger wizard to stagger backwards, bringing an arm up protectively over his already bruised face.
Just as Severus felt his second, well perhaps fourth wind taking over, a small burst of energy from Harry sent him flying over the back of the couch, slamming bodily into the marble mantle of the fireplace, cracking it in the process, before he pancaked onto the floor. Lying there, disoriented and trying to catch his breath, Severus heard Harry mutter, “Episkey”. The healing charm was followed by the sound of bone and cartilage resetting.
Severus tracked Harry’s bare feet as they came into view where he lay belly down, arms askew on the floor. Unable to move he watched Harry’s perfect feet step past his face toward his feet. Overhead he could hear Harry breathing raggedly. Within moments Severus felt his remaining clothes begin to dissolve from his body, wondering with little real curiosity what type of spell Harry used.
For the first time since he had re-entered Harry’s home Severus felt the all-too-familiar weight of uncertainty descend upon him. He was scarred, thin, and pale. His body was not ripe and firm with the vigor of youth. He feared this moment but knew there was nothing for it. Harry would see his body, but he had not really registered that when they first made love Harry would see him lying in a mess of blood and bruises. He felt more vulnerable lying face down naked and injured than he had ever felt in his life. He now knew how horrified and vulnerable the female Auror he had help commit unspeakable acts upon felt in the final moments of her life. Irony could be so fucking cruel, he thought, unable to even muster the strength for a proper laugh or snort.
His body began to tremble, not from pain or cold, but in fear. As much as he mocked Gryffindor courage Severus had the same ailment and had rarely known unconquerable fear. There was the adrenaline of battle, the fleeting fear of life or death in war; but this, finally wholly relinquishing his fate, his happiness, his body, his life into the hands of another was intimidating in a way Voldemort could have never been.
He heard the thunk of knees dropping to the floor and felt Harry crawling slowly up his body from feet to thigh to buttocks to back. A low, deep growl, akin to a rumbling purr tickled over his back as he felt a wet tongue slowly trace over each individual vertebrae of his spine. A warm, calloused hand smoothed along his outer left thigh and flank, coming to rest atop his own hand, entwining their bloody fingers and bruised knuckles.
Harry’s breath was hot like a flame as he panted into Severus ear, “I will give you everything, Severus. Everything I have in me will be yours.”
Severus let out a breath he had not known he was holding. An orphan tear made its way across the bridge of his nose and onto the floor. A barely audible sob escaped his swollen mouth, causing the split on his lip to begin bleeding anew. Everything, Harry.
Severus felt the refreshing tingle of minor healing spells being cast over him, taking away the most major pain from his injuries and staunching any bleeding wound— all but his lip. For that Harry lifted Severus head, which lay turned to the side, and planted a kiss as soft as newborn skin on his lips. Severus parted his lips, unconsciously begging for more. Harry trailed his tongue over Severus’ lips, searching out the cut and laving it like a vampire would a puncture and healing it the same. When Harry withdrew Severus’ lips were still swollen but this time for a very different reason. Then Harry began painstakingly licking every sweaty, bloody, filthy inch of his body the way mother cats bathe their kittens. It went on forever and Severus was sure that by the end every part of his body had been utterly devoured by his younger lover. All pretense of control ran from his mind, leaving behind only compliance and raw desire.
As he lost his second battle of the night against fatigue, Severus felt himself being lifted by strong arms and carried off, the floor beating a hasty retreat as he succumbed to darkness.
A/N: Extra! Extra! Smut on the way in Chapter 11...
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