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Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Tasks	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 5179 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in anyway, shape or form. The rights of such belong solely to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money or accrue any monetary benefit on this story.

Chapter List
- 10
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He staggered. Even Side-Along Apparition over such a short distance was nasty, the tugging sensation behind his belly button making his back injury flare.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” the sorcerer said, black eyes searching Harry’s contorted features. “I know Apparition isn’t the most agreeable way to travel. But I wanted to spare you the agony of being dragged up the stairs.”
“It-it’s all right,” Harry whispered. Then he blinked. Had Snape just apologized…and called him Harry? He was fairly sure the man hadn’t noticed the slip and he wasn’t about to call his attention to it.
Bemused as he was by Snape’s unusual words, he barely noticed when the sorcerer waved his wand, removing his T-shirt. The man made a face as he tossed it on to the chair. Without prompting he cast a Cleaning charm on it. “Really, Potter, one would think you could cast a simple Refreshening Charm on your own attire.”
“I have. There’s only so many Charms you can use before you reach the point of no return.” Wearied just from making this simple explanation, Harry staggered to his bed and lowered himself on it as gingerly as possible. He’d just placed his glasses on the nightstand when he felt the sweep of magic brushing over his body and started. “What…?”
“Just a small charm used in healing. It shows me the injured portions of your anatomy. Now I will use a salve on your back.”
“The same as before?”
“No. That one was for aches and pains. You have suffered actual damage and that must be repaired before it worsens.”
Harry didn’t speak. He could feel his heart hammering in anticipation. There was a whisper of cloth – the only sound of Snape’s movement – then he felt the bed dip beneath the other man’s weight.
Those graceful hands were sweeping over his skin. This wasn’t the probing massage of before. They caressed as though Snape were trying to memorize every inch of flesh he could reach. A tingle seemed to follow each motion of his fingers until his whole back seemed alive with heat.
“Oh, that feels…”
“Sshh.” The sorcerer’s voice had lowered to a whisper. “Relax. Let the salve do its work.”
Whatever pain Harry was feeling rapidly faded under the salve’s effects. Instead, urgency edged over his flesh. This was ridiculous; Snape wasn’t touching him anywhere except his back and shoulders. But once more Harry’s cock was letting him know just how much it loved the sorcerer’s attentions. It throbbed almost painfully with every sweep of Snape’s fingertips.
His fingers dug into the pillow as he thought about Quidditch scores, Hermione’s most boring lectures, and Binn’s mind-numbing history lessons about the goblin wars. Nothing worked. He tried picturing Argus Filch naked. Ugh, that helped.
Then Snape’s fingertips dipped below the waistband of his jeans. Instantly Harry’s prick flared to life again. He was going to start rutting the bed; he just knew it.
Snape’s hand touched his shoulder. “Harry, would you mind if I removed your trousers? I don’t want to get salve on them.” A breathless quality was in Snape’s voice and Harry could have sworn the hand on his shoulder trembled just a little.
Was it possible? Did Snape…want him? What else could he mean by asking Harry to strip completely? He wasn’t fooled for a second by Snape’s apparent concern over his trousers.
Well, was he a Gryffindor or wasn’t he?
“Yes. Please,” he whispered.
Unable to bend over with the pain in his back, he’d left his shoes on. He felt them being removed, the socks following. Did he imagine it or did Snape’s fingers linger on each arch? Harry lifted his hips and his trousers were tugged gently down over his buttocks, thighs and then his legs.
Now Snape’s hands were everywhere, flowing like fountain water over Harry’s back, kneading his buttocks and sweeping down to palm his thighs. Harry couldn’t pretend this was still about healing. The sorcerer was touching areas of him that held no touch of injury.
Barely audible gasps came from the man above him and Harry could resist no longer. He craned his head back to see Snape’s face, flushed, the lips parted as panting breaths brushed over Harry’s skin, the eyes darkened with need – yes, just as he’d witnessed in the mirror.
He rolled over and let Snape see his cock throbbing against his belly, his stomach slicked with the beginnings of desire. Whatever happened next was up to the man leaning over him.
Understanding sparked in those eldritch eyes. Then Snape began removing his tightly fitted jacket. Unbuttoning seemed to take forever to Harry and finally he could wait no longer. He reached for Snape, tugging frantically, the tiny buttons casualties of his haste. Underneath was a long shirt of plain white cotton, again festooned with the small buttons the elder man seemed to favor.
Harry thought he would go mad when he found a long-sleeve undershirt underneath this. How could the man go dressed in so many clothes in this heat? The boots, trousers and small boxers were the last to go, heedlessly flung to the floor, and Harry drew in a breath at seeing that form naked for the first time.
The body bending over his was ivory and smoke, the black hair and eyes a stunning contrast to the pallid frame. The long arms were corded and muscular without being bulging, the hairless chest a milky backdrop for two dark pink nipples. The legs were long, too, without being bony. And what rose out of a nest of pubic hair so black it was nearly purple was a wine-red cock, stiff and pointing skyward against the naked stomach.
Harry gulped at the sight of it. It wasn’t so very thick but in length it was a match for the taller male sporting it. It was borne in on him that this was a man indeed, not a boy like Malfoy or even Cedric. He felt small and inadequate by comparison and wanted to shrink into the covers.
“Harry.” The sorcerer’s voice was deeper than before, thick as potion fumes, smooth as silk. What magic was in that single word to make Harry shake so?
Suddenly Harry was frantic to kiss him, to bring to life that image from the mirror. As Snape leaned down, Harry tilted his head upwards to claim his lips. Their nose bumped and the sorcerer withdrew, wincing. Harry whispered, “Sorry” and tried again, more carefully.
Harry had kissed Cho Chang once, a disastrous attempt that had left the girl grimacing and telling all her friends what a lousy kisser Harry Potter was. That certainly hadn’t helped him win any dates. But Snape clearly knew things a fifth year Ravenclaw girl didn’t. What followed was a lesson better than any potions tutorial.
Thin lips pulled at his, tentatively at first, then more forcefully as need flared to match his. Snape tilted Harry’s head up to his, kissed down to his throat and suckled there. When Harry arched, gasping in reaction, Snape swept back up and nipped at his ear.
Harry moaned. Snape nipped harder. Harry whimpered and Snape kissed back down to his lips, tonguing them open. Harry had never had a tongue in his mouth. But any unease he felt was chased away by the adroit flesh reaching for his.
Cautiously, he reciprocated. Their tongues twisted as he clutched Snape tighter to him (and shouldn’t he start calling him “Severus” by now?).
The taller man’s body was hunching over his, their cocks brushing and bumping, and Harry moaned at every pulse over his skin. Those skillful fingers ran down his chest. When two squeezed a nipple, Harry was startled at the burst of heat from the contact. Both nipples were pinched and Harry’s whole body shook.
“Severus!” After the endless nights of dreaming and the stimulation of Severus’s massage, the added sensation was too much. Harry came in shuddering spurts all over his belly. When the enchanter pulled back, staring at him, Harry flushed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“We barely started and I-I just…”
“Don’t be sorry. The night is young…and so are you,” he murmured with a teasing smile.
Their tongues twined again. Severus seemed determined to explore each and every one of Harry’s teeth and the youth was eager to do the same. Desire rose through Harry’s body again like smoke from a fire. When Severus’s mouth followed the trail of his fingers, he clutched at the bed sheets and whimpered.
That wicked tongue swirled around his nipple, drawing arcane patterns around the tautening flesh. The teasing flick became a powerful suck that had Harry arching and crying out for more. While he had fantasized of what Severus’s fingers would do to him, he hadn’t spent nearly enough time imagining what charms that mouth was capable of working on his skin.
He sank his hands in the midnight-colored hair, holding Severus close. It was so soft, like a cloud, that he found himself stroking it, trailing the sleek strands through his fingers. By Severus’s sighs, the sorcerer wasn’t exactly unhappy about it.
Nails were scratching along Harry’s side, bringing frissons of pleasure wherever they touched. Severus’s tongue was trailing through the mess left on Harry’s stomach and the younger wizard watched in stupefaction as the man lapped eagerly, seemingly delighted with the taste of Harry. When the tongue slurped over the tip of his cock, Harry let out a sharp yell.
“Oh, Severus!” He was going to embarrass himself again; he just knew it.
The sorcerer held his shaking thighs, soothed him with voice and touch, and Harry’s trembling subsided. Then he went to work in earnest. He sucked, tongued and lipped all along the younger wizard’s length until a fine sweat rose all over Harry’s heaving body.
When Severus stopped, Harry mewled in protest, tried to bring him back. The man gave him a slow smile, heat and tenderness shooting out of his dark glance. He kissed Harry’s open palm and reached for the salve.
The sorcerer nudged Harry’s thighs open and reached between them. When a finger prodded at his tight rosebud, Harry sucked in a breath and shook even harder.
“Ssshhhh. Don’t be afraid,” Severus whispered, his voice gone even huskier.
Harry licked his lips. “I-I’m not. Just…”
“Yes?” The hand had stilled, that gaze fastened unblinkingly on his face.
Memory of Cho Chang’s scorn rose in his mind. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered.
“I have no complaints so far.” The man brushed his thumb over Harry’s lips and his fears vanished. That narrow-boned hand swept down his side, soothing him. So distracted was Harry with that deliberate touch he was taken by surprise as a long finger circled and pushed into the clenched space.
Harry drew in a breath as Severus invaded that private place in his body. All the while, Severus kept on kissing him, rubbing over his skin, his nipples, whispering assurances to him in those hypnotic tones. He was fairly breeched by that probing finger before he knew what was happening.
“AHHH!” His eyes widened as his hips left the bed. It was like a bolt of lightning had shot through his body. “W-what was that?” he gasped. “Magic?”
A bark of laughter greeted this. “Such innocence.” Severus leaned down and kissed Harry hard enough to bruise. He parted from the tingling lips and whispered, “If you insist, then, yes, it is magic. The very best kind.”
The finger pushed back and forth, stroking over that place, until Harry mewled, quivered like a willow, and thrashed in the bed. Another joined it. And another, all coated with the salve, slicking Harry and spreading the passage. Severus was pressed against his side, watching every flickering expression on Harry’s face, raining kisses over his eyelids, cheek, mouth and neck, wherever he could reach.
This was glorious; Harry thought the top of his head was going to fly off. But there was more than this and he wanted it, wanted this man, more than anything else he’d ever wanted in his entire life. “Please. Stop…I need…”
He couldn’t say it. Severus seemed to understand his shy awkwardness. Those fingers dug into the salve once more and spread it over the reddened cock, now thicker than before. Harry realized the enchanter’s need must have been as great as his own but he hadn’t pressed him or pushed until Harry was ready.
And he was ready. He reached for the man’s shoulders, drawing him down, as Severus sank into him.
At last. It didn’t make any sense, that thought, but it was the only one his mind could conjure. He had longed for this ever since the formidable sorcerer had appeared in his mirror. No, even before that, if he were honest. Now his desires were about to be fulfilled.
At last.
Only it seemed that might be a bit of time in coming. Severus slid a bare inch into Harry and stopped at the first hissing breath. His eyes trained unnervingly on the teenager, he waited. Then slid just a little farther.
The eyelids had descended over the obsidian eyes until only the tiniest slit of black showed. Severus’s teeth were pinching at his lower lip as his breath hissed through his nose. The strain of refusing to hurt Harry was there on his face, in the fine tremors that ran over his body. The lovemaking was agonizingly, exquisitely measured and both men were sweating like racehorses by the time Severus was balls’s deep within Harry.
Then he began the serious business of fucking the youth into the mattress.
The thrusts were languid at first – slow, shivery pushes that Severus mimicked by his tongue thrusting into Harry’s mouth. Harry scrabbled at Severus’s back, tracing the rippling muscles down to the flexing buttocks. Smooth and then taut under his fingers, his hands clenched spasmodically on that arse as Severus unerringly found that magical place inside him with every deliberate glide.
Harry couldn’t think at all. There was such heat flaring everywhere; he could barely breathe. Their legs were winding together, their bodies melding and Severus was licking and biting at his throat, calling Harry’s name over and over like a spell he was chanting.
The enchanter grabbed at Harry’s hands and drew them over his neck, mutely begging Harry to hold him, and so he did. His arms were around the narrower shoulders, legs gripping Severus around the back like another embrace, as he panted and cried into the man’s neck.
“Mer…lin…Harry…so…sweet…” The words trailed off into incoherent hisses as Severus’s breath raced hot over his face. As though unable to keep away, he lipped at Harry with more of those soul-stealing kisses. Severus seemed to like kissing a great deal; for Harry, it was easily the best part of their lovemaking.
The enchanter tilted his hips, curling the pliant youth almost into a ball. The altered position sent him deeper into Harry, causing the teen to clench tighter around him. With that movement, Harry saw shock and ferocious desire cross Severus’s face. So Harry concentrated and bore down with the muscles he was just beginning to learn how to use.
Severus let out a strangled shriek and his pace lost its tender unhurriedness. Finesse was abandoned as he began pounding into Harry with force enough to hurt. Yet there was no pain, only blinding pleasure that whipped through Harry without ceasing so that he screamed with each movement. Those adept fingers were clawing at his buttocks, drawing Harry against the lean form above him. That mysterious place was stroked unceasingly and the sorcerer was holding him and groaning in guttural tones that sounded barely human.
“Tight, fuck, so good, my…beautiful boy…oh delic…fuuuuucccck.” Gone was the smugly knowing lover who was amused by Harry’s innocence. A madman reigned in his place, one as lost to this wild passion as Harry was.
Something was happening, both in his body and Severus’s. A scarlet tide had mounted to that pale face and the shudders in the body were deepening. When Severus wound his hand around his cock and twisted, Harry was undone. His back bowed and he came again, shrieking, painting them both with his seed.
Black eyes widened as though shaken by Harry’s passion and his lover reared off Harry’s body. Severus seemed to freeze over him, a statue in alabaster and ebony. With a drawn-out moan that might have been Harry’s name, his prick twitched and shot into the clenching hole. Then he collapsed like one felled by the Killing Curse.
Ragged sobs ran over Harry’s neck in fiery puffs, even as the teenager struggled to catch his own breath. Severus was shaking again, the tremors running little spasms all down that flushed skin. Now it was Harry’s turn to soothe, running his hand in languid sweeps from the man’s hair and down over his back. He rubbed his cheek against Severus’s, sighing as the man turned his head to favor him with moaning kisses. They were curiously gentle, mere echoes of the bruising sucks of before, but Harry couldn’t complain.
He wanted to speak, to commemorate this event in some way. But any words seemed woefully inadequate to this spellbound moment.
Severus pulled back to look into his face and Harry was floored by the softness in his eyes. Those thick lashes did nothing to hide the yielding expression. The black hair, tousled with the exertion, lay plastered in sweaty strands over the forehead and around the cheeks. The most delicate rosiness was on the sallow cheeks. His smile now held traces of shyness, giving his face an uncharacteristic youthfulness. Harry was abruptly reminded that Severus was no older than his father and James Potter was only in his thirties.
Severus withdrew from him, his cock slipping from Harry’s body, causing them both to sigh. He grasped his wand and waved it over their bodies, muttering, “Scourgify.” When he was more comfortably settled, he brushed the tangled hair out of Harry’s eyes. “How are you?” the deep voice intoned.
Harry blinked. How was he? The question was so inadequate to what he was feeling; he almost giggled. Instead he tried to answer it seriously. “I’m… It was…”
“Yes.” All the while Severus spoke, his hand trailed in slow circles over Harry’s flesh. Now that he’d been allowed to touch the youth, he couldn’t seem to stop.
Harry was awed and humbled to realize that he’d brought this man the same joy. “For you too?”
An eyebrow lifted. Softness gave way to the familiar derision. “You couldn’t tell? You were here, weren’t you?”
“Hey, you asked me first!”
“I merely wanted to ascertain if you were all right, whether I’d hurt you with my…enthusiasm.”
“Oh. Um, nope. I liked the…enthusiasm.”
“Well, you might be sore in the morning. I have a salve for that. I’ll leave it for you to use on your affected parts.”
“My affected parts? That’s your naff way of saying ‘arse’, is it?” Harry laughed then and the somber mood lifted.
“I’m so glad I amused you,” Severus drawled with mock asperity.
“I thought my performance might have amused you.” That slipped out before he could stop it and Harry buried his face in Severus’s shoulders, feeling himself blushing.
“Why would it? How could I complain about having such a responsive, eager, beautiful young man in my bed?”
Harry pulled back to gape at him. “Beautiful? You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
“Why would you doubt it?” Severus’s features twisted sourly. “Whatever else might be said about your father, he was accounted a very handsome youth, one of the most good-looking boys in all the years he was in Hogwarts. You take after him. So you must know what you look like.”
“You are so wrong, it’s not even funny.” Harry pulled the sheets over his body, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “Ron Weasley’s the one everybody’s mad for these days. He’s tall, muscular and broad shouldered with that fiery Weasley hair. All the girls look at him like they want to coat his body with oil, especially after a winning Quidditch game. If I get any attention, it’s because I’m such a good Seeker. But it’s Ron everybody wants.”
“Are they blind? Who could tolerate all that appalling ginger hair? It’d be like cuddling up to an orangutan!” Severus gave an exaggerated shudder and Harry laughed again. He wound his arms around Severus and nuzzled his shoulder, smiling dreamily as the man held him tight.
He’d just had sex for the very first time and the experience had been everything he had wished and more. Severus was the most skilled and tender of lovers, attentive, caring and considerate. There had been no pain, only devastating pleasure.
This hadn’t been anything like what he’d expected when he came here. With that thought came the remembrance of everything else.
The tasks. His promise to rescue Draco. His return to school in the fall. Oh no.
“What is wrong?” Concern laced the baritone voice.
“Nothing.”
“Do not lie to me, brat. I’ve warned you against that before.” He tilted up Harry’s chin, that penetrating gaze searching his.
“I-I was just wondering what happens with Draco.” That was close enough to the truth not to rouse the man’s ire, he hoped.
“Draco? Why should he matter?” His emotions shifting with frightening rapidity, Harry saw anger gathering in the depths of Severus’s eyes. “Were you hoping to have the Malfoy prince in your bed instead of me?”
“No!” Harry cried, shocked to the core. “Why would you think that?”
“After that scene in the orchard – ” He broke off abruptly.
“Is that what this is all about? You were jealous of Draco this whole time?”
Severus said nothing. His whole expression might have been carved of stone.
“Severus, I’m not interested in Draco like that! For days, I’ve been thinking only of you!”
“Truly?” The obsidian eyes dug into him as if testing his veracity. “Then why do you care what he thinks of us?”
“Well, you said not to trust him,” Harry evaded.
“Ah, do you fear he will prattle? Draco has his own problems to deal with and he knows me well enough not to cross me.” That flat deadly tone made Harry nervous; he hoped Severus never turned that rage on him.
“Then…what happens now?”
“As I’ve stated before, the night is young. There is much we can do, much I can teach you, before morning.”
Harry inwardly shivered at the promise in that voice. “But in the morning…”
“Draco is still absorbed in his chore at this moment. I will Apparate to my room before morning. I believe I mentioned how Draco never stirs before noon if he can help it. He will not know what passes between us.” He misunderstood Harry’s tense expression. “Do not worry, Harry. I’ve no more wish to let Draco know about our affair than you do. As I’ve indicated, beware of trusting a Slytherin.”
“But he’s not actually a Slytherin, is he?”
“Nevertheless, the warning applies. His father...”
Harry looked at him, coolly reproachful. “I know what it’s like to be blamed for my father’s mistakes, Severus.”
There was a moment’s silence. “I deserved that. Still, I know what the Malfoys are capable of and you should be on your guard. Whether Draco was sorted into Slytherin house or not, he has absorbed all too well the behaviors of that particular house.”
“What does that say about you?” Harry joked. “You’re a Slytherin yourself.”
“Ah, but I have something to lose by talking. So you may rely on my discretion. I am a master of keeping secrets and this house holds many. As long as you are beneath this roof, I will protect you.”
“Oh. Good.” Did Harry want to keep this a secret? If felt…wrong to do that, as if they were engaged in something dirty and sordid.
But what choice did he have? He would be leaving this place soon, one way or the other. And this wasn’t necessarily something he could boast about back at Hogwarts – having made love to a teacher at Durmstrang, a Dark Arts practitioner and one who was holding a helpless prince prisoner.
Yet he’d never seen Severus engaged in anything remotely evil. True, he bullied Draco ruthlessly. But the pointy-faced git was a lazy sod; most teachers at Hogwarts would have been hard-put to keep their tempers around such a useless waste of skin. Was Severus to be blamed for making him work for his keep?
But he was keeping the prince against his will. And Harry had promised to rescue him. He couldn’t break his word, which meant he would have to leave Severus soon. He was in a real bind here; how was he to get out of it?
“You are still uneasy. What do you fear?”
Harry heaved a sigh. “I-I don’t know if I can keep a secret like this as well as you. I mean, I feel so different; it’s got to show. Do I look different?”
The bottomless eyes traced a leisurely path over Harry’s body. The heat of that glance was something he could feel, a sunbeam tracing every inch of flesh. “You look exquisite. Edible. Enticing beyond measure.” That sinful voice deepened with every word and the limp cock began twitching on his lank thigh.
Harry gulped, almost unable to breathe in the wake of that revealing statement. He wanted to say something equally stirring. But he lacked the words. Instead he settled for reaching for Severus’s neck, arching to suck at those eager lips.
As Severus had said, the night was young.

TBC
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Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Tasks