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Unleashed	By : lordoberon Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 17652 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. I make no money in the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
I reckon this may be a 20 chapter fic. Trying to make the chapts longer now. Finally, they get some action! ;D

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UNLEASHED

by lordoberon

Chapter 15

Harry spent hours in the night putting memories into the pensieve. Somehow doing it at night made it better, but also worse. It was better in the sense that it was quiet and he had utter privacy. But it was also worse, because it was lonely, and reminded him of darker, frightening places he had been. He was a Gryffindor, the dark did not scare him, but here it seemed to pull him in and make him sink deeper into all of his grief more.

He woke up late the next morning, drained.

Nothing was working out. Nothing was going well. He ached even more for the company of friends. It had been so good to see Ron and Hermione. At the same time, he almost wished he hadn’t. Not having them now made it all the more difficult.

He ate a quick breakfast, and rushed out to the outside. The last time he’d been here, he’d been a Slytherin.

The wild garden tried to catch Harry as he went to the center of the garden. He did not intend to look at Snape’s plants, though he was still curious. Snape would just be even more upset and strange if he did. Ugh. He couldn’t even stand to think of the man at the moment. It was just too much. Snape was just too much.

So he sat down on a cold flat stone next to the greenhouse, and leaned against the wall. He looked up at the sky, and remained there for hours. There was something so peaceful about staring up at the sky. It made him long to fly his broomstick, but it also sent peace into him. Somehow when he looked at it, he didn’t have to think. He watched the sway of the trees and the critters in the bushes; he watched the slugs on the ground. But mostly he stared up at the sky, and watched the clouds, and the house rooftops, and nothing.

When it started to rain, he stayed.

After some time, shivering and wet, the thought popped into his head that, even though he’d been rejected and was angry and confused, he would still like to do something for Snape. Not to melt him, not to help him, but to help himself. Otherwise he’d go around with it in his head all the time. Funny, he’d been thinking of nothing quite well all this time, and now Snape popped into his head again so easily.

Damn.

He rushed past the sitting room, realized no one was there and kept rushing upstairs so he could get a nice hot bath.

How nice to have a personal loo. It was luxury he did not have at the Dursleys. More often than not, Dudley would harass him on the way in or out, and people would tell him to hurry up. He still remembered the time, as a little boy, that he’d taken too long and Vernon had crashed down the door and Harry had been absolutely mortified to be seen.

While in the bath, he thought. What could he do for Snape? Besides stop trying to figure him out…

After an hour of thinking over things, he realized it was stupid to give Snape a gift. What would the man do with it? Harry could give him a number of interesting books, potion things, nifty gadgets, or whatnot, but none of them would really suffice. They wouldn’t get across Harry’s need to at least give something, in response to that intense need he had seen (and, too, for all the times his life had been saved).

Nothing was good enough. But Snape was a lonely man, with little patience for much interaction, and an intense focus on his potions work. So Harry figured he would give him his space. Maybe that was a gift in itself. And, too, he could give him respect. Quiet. Tolerance. All those things he’d never shown before to Snape – because Snape had blown his fuse all the time – he could give him now. He would be a ghost in this house, silent and unobtrusive, and be as pleasant as possible. Then he would leave.

He did not see Snape for all of that day. The next day, it would have been the same, he suspected, except that on his way into the kitchen he bumped into Snape, returning from his mysterious potion lab.

The man was wearing his black robes, once more the bat. There was a hint of tiredness to his face, but the firm line of his mouth spoke of some inward strength. He did not greet Harry, and would have walked past, but Harry said, “Oi.”

Snape paused in the kitchen doorway, and turned slowly. He met Harry’s gaze, and then looked away lazily beyond. “Yes?”

Harry licked his lips. Why was Snape so bothered by it all? Harry had kissed him…he’d gotten angry…Harry was the one who should be nervous and quiet. And he was. Argh, he wished he knew Legilimency and could turn the tables on Snape!

“I worked on the pensieve. You…you can take a look. Would you…like me to bring it?”

Immediately he had the man’s attention. Snape stood up straighter. “Yes. Bring it to the library. Hold it carefully! If they are dropped…”

“I know,” Harry said. “I dropped one. That Sorting one…I remember dropping it, just not what was in it.” He wished his voice wouldn’t reveal that he was sad about that. But he knew he had Slytherin and Gryffindor in him, even if he couldn’t remember how he knew this.

Snape’s voice was low and curt. “You did not tell me this earlier. Why? When did you drop it?”

Harry stopped shifting from foot to foot. He would not show his discomfort. All comfort he’d had with Snape, even the nasty arguments between them, seemed gone. Whatever this was between him and Snape now was so…dull.

“I dropped it when Voldemort spoke to you and tortured you. I was in his head, and that’s how I witnessed it.”

Snape frowned at that point beyond Harry’s head. “I see.”

Argh! It was so frustrating to have him be like this! As recently as a year ago Harry would have loved to get such a normal response from Snape, but now, after seeing more of the man…after talking to him about Lily and potions and enjoying his sarcastic wit…it was almost painful to have Snape be so ordinary and bland. It was so un-Snape.

It disturbed Harry to think that he was disturbed by this. Yet somehow, in his head, it had become normal to like Snape.

That had happened so fast. But why fight it? Perhaps Snape was fighting it, and Harry was not. But…the anger he’d seen in Snape, directed at him after the kiss, was just as real as the need he’d seen at Grimmauld Place.

It was not easy to be friends with Severus Snape. Was he right, to give up?

He brought the pensieve to Snape in the library, and when the door shut, he left and wandered downstairs.

There, he sat on the couch and contemplated the fire. Snape seemed to do that a lot. Perhaps it gave him answers?

Harry began to scratch the arm of the couch. Should he disengage entirely, or should he get more involved? Entangled? It was difficult to disengage, and yet it was easier, to just be alone, to try to not think of Snape or deal with him more than required…and yet, how tempting, to try and figure out Snape, to try to connect with him in some way, whether friendly or…well, Harry’s attempt at diving in by kissing Snape had failed horribly. So perhaps friends would have to be good enough.

Remus seemed to pull it off just fine. Then again, he wasn’t very close to Snape, and he’d known him since Hogwarts school days.

Alright. Harry took a deep breath. The worst that could happen was Snape would kick him out forever, and Remus would help extract the demons, and Harry could move on. The best that could happen was…a flutter grew in Harry’s stomach. He didn’t want to think about it. It was impractical. It made no sense.

He grabbed some Floo powder from the fireplace mantle, and stuck his head in the fire. He called out Remus’s current address, which he’d memorized just in case.

He was in a rather ordinary, simple residence. Tonks stood in the middle of a sitting room, staring at him.

“Harry! Harry, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Um. Can I talk to Remus? It’s er…kindof private. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Harry!”

She laughed, changing her hair color to blue. He watched with a smile as she left, and kept it stuck on for when Remus arrived. Remus always needed extra reassurance that he was alright.

“Harry.” With a smile, Remus pulled up a chair closer to the fire. “So good to see you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you much since…you returned to yourself. Everything alright?”

Harry laughed and then let the smile fall. “Yeah. Well, no. I mean, I wouldn’t be here if it was, right? I mean, I should’ve firecalled earlier…”

And he felt suddenly guilty. He should have thought of this earlier. He could be talking to Remus all the time, instead of being lonely and bored in Snape’s house, stuck with only books and venomous magical plants.

“It’s okay, Harry. I’ve been busy anyway, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to talk much. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, er…” Harry fidgeted, and sat down more comfortably on the floor. “It’s Snape, actually.”

Remus nodded. “Ah. Well, I’m not surprised. You two haven’t gotten along very well at any time.”

“Well…yeah…but we did start to. Sortof. Recently. Well not really. I don’t know, er, I found out that he likes Quidditch and I did get to see his potions lab but I was a Slytherin then and whatnot so anyway I, I decided I wanted to do something for him because he’s done so much for me and, er…there’s some weird things going on in my head…”

“Harry, Harry! Slow down!” Remus laughed. “Please. Start from the beginning. I won’t call anything weird until I hear it all out.”

“The beginning? Uh…I don’t know…when I was stuck in his room at Hogwarts I hated it…I was angry with him for...a lot, and I hated being wandless…but then it all started to change…”

“How?” Remus’s face was open and kind. Harry was so relieved. He felt his eyes sting a little in the excitement of the moment. Finally he got to speak to someone about this! Merlin.

“Well, on one of the demon…escapades…he helped me to remember who I was by sharing his memories about…my mum…with me. I realized I really don’t know him at all, and he’s not all bad. I…I think he cares about me, he’s just really bad at showing it.”

Remus nodded slowly. “Go on.”

“So I made him tell me more about my mum. He shared mostly surface things but…but then he said she was a friend like he didn’t deserve. Then I just couldn’t stop wondering, you know? What he was really like. I bet he was lonely, with no friends, and I remembered being like that…”

Harry shivered. “So I guess I gained some empathy for him. Then we had an, er…an incident. A demon one. I, uh, uh…”

He whispered. “I had this thing…for another student. Like me. Um. A bloke. And Snape asked me all these prying questions…and…I think I…did something, while under the influence of the demons. KissedhimorsomethingIdon’tknow. SothenIthoughtaboutthat…”

“Harry! Slow down. It’s alright. I’m not going to perjure you for it.” He laughed, a quiet laugh to himself, as if he was remembering something.

“It went downhill from there.” Harry felt sick and stared at the floor beyond Remus. “I started to work on the pensieve which would’ve been distracting except I saw Snape getting tortured by Voldemort. But he healed himself and turned out fine. Then…Merlin…he saw me after I put some memories in the pensieve…I…got upset.”

“Angry?” Remus looked concerned.

Harry shook his head wildly. “No. Er. Sad. He…he caught me…and…it was so embarrassing! …He tried to comfort me. I mean, it worked. He gave me a hug and…for some reason it worked…”

“And?”

“And then er…I started noticing little details about him. I came here and looked through his books. Then you two did that ritual and…”

Harry’s face turned red. “I don’t want to say anymore. I…I tried to get closer to him and it backfired.”

“Ah.” Remus smiled, nodding. “Yes. That’s normal, Harry. Many people have done that and had the same thing happen. Severus is a very interesting individual. People are intrigued. He tends to be quiet and try to get people away – by purposely being unpleasant. Not to say that it is a persona,” Remus chuckled, “I daresay not. But it is sometimes a defense, in my experience. Most people get discouraged from getting closer. Those who don’t, tend to be quite naturally stubborn already…like your mother.”

Yes, but his mother hadn’t kissed Snape. Or had she? Well, presumably not, because Snape would not have rejected her. Then she wouldn’t have been with James.

“So I have to be more stubborn if I want to get closer. Makes sense…”

Harry fidgeted again. Even though it was only firecall with his head showing, something in his face must have shown his discomfort.

“Harry. I know it seems like talking won’t work because that’s what you did, but -”

“I didn’t!” Harry shut his eyes. He hadn’t even talked to Snape, hadn’t communicated any of it. And why would he? It was all mad anyway, absolutely mad and confused…how to say it…so he’d tried to say things in the kiss because he thought Snape wanted it…wanted him…

He didn’t realize that he was pushing his fingers against his mouth until Remus said, “Oh. Really? Well…well…” He laughed. “I would be entertained to see how Sirius and James would have reacted to this situation.”

Oh Merlin…Remus had caught on…Harry hung his head. He didn’t want Remus to know, and yet it was good to have someone know. This was more than a friendship problem. He wasn’t even friends with Snape. Why had he jumped over that and tried for more?

“It’s driving me absolutely mad,” he whispered, shoving his hands through his hair. “I’m trying to not care but I keep thinking about…all of it.”

“How long since you…tried to break down the walls?”

“Just a couple days. I guess I cracked early on…should have stuck it out and just…been okay with everything.”

“Harry. It’s hard to stop thinking about something when you’re yearning for it. That’s understandable.You’re trying to put this out of your head, but it won’t go. Perhaps you are meant to pursue it. I think you should consider it. I don’t think it would be harmful to pursue, because there is nothing but good in your intentions, and love in your heart.”

“They say the road to hell is paved in good intentions…” Harry frowned.

“Yes, but those with good intentions are willing to take that risk and make that sacrifice, Harry. You must also think on the other side. His side. You must try to be sensitive. Will it hurt him, or help him? You may want it, but what does he want, and how does he feel?”

“Well, that’s what I was trying to figure out!!”

“Alright. So you got blocked. But just think. Do you want it? Will it be good for you, and for him?”

“Well…” Harry stared at Remus’s shoes. “Either he hates me and gets even more furious and hacks down another wall in his house…and I have other friends…or…we…work it out.”

“Good, good.” Remus smiled. “That is sound thinking, to me. You said you haven’t communicated your thoughts. Why not start there?”

“But he’s impossible to talk to!”

Remus laughed. “Impossible? For you? Harry, I think you can do anything you put your mind to. Where’s that stubborn Gryffindor spirit? You’ve never been afraid of him before.”

Harry felt a flush of warmth rush in him. Remus was right. The worst that could happen was what had already happened – Snape being cold with him – and so he should go forward with a ‘nothing to lose’ attitude.

“You’re right,” he breathed, “You’re right! Thank you, Remus.”

His werewolf friend gave him a wink. “You’re welcome. Glad to help. Call me anytime if you need more help, Harry.”

“Thanks.”

He spent a half an hour unnecessarily muddling around the kitchen and eating dinner, and then he braved the upstairs, and knocked on the library door.

At first, there was silence. Then a low voice said, “Come in.”

The library room was mostly dark, with only a dim lamp lit in the center of the room, by the chairs. A table was drawn up to it, and Snape behind it. Harry could barely see his face in the bad lighting. Somehow that encouraged him a little.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, missing a wand, but especially his wand. He stood by the table too, opposite Snape.

“Er…”

He started to kick the table out of nerves, and then stopped himself just in time. The table moved a tad, and the pensieve sloshed maybe a fifth of an inch.

Snape put his hands on either side of the pensieve protectively. “Watch it, Potter!”

It was weird how good it felt, to hear Snape snap at him. Harry bit his lip to stop from smiling.

“How’s it going?” What to say? How to start?

“Well.” Snape began to pace a little. “While you were yakking via firecall without my permission, I did a brief overview of your Fourth Year.”

Harry froze. Had Snape stepped out and heard him speaking with Remus? Oh Merlin…

He bit his lip harder. “So. Voldemort. Quite pretty when he’s all new and shiny, isn’t he?”

Snape snorted. “Quite. That map of Hogwarts, do you still have it?”

Harry crossed his arms. “What’s it to you?”

Snape maybe rolled his eyes; Harry couldn’t see in the near darkness. “What it is to anyone. Useful. Even if it was engineered by nonsense makers such as your father.”

Harry did not take the bait. He decided to turn the annoying questions on Snape. Plus, he wondered. “What, you’re so sick of having me here at your house that you decided you’re going back to Hogwarts?”

Snape stopped pacing. “No. Simply that it would be a guilty pleasure to explore the castle. I have always wished to do so. It holds many mysteries. No, Potter. I am not trying to dig into your most secret things…I don’t go to your friends, asking about you.”

Crouched over the table as he was, Harry could see his eyes, needling into Harry. So he’d heard Harry asking Remus about his past. Well. Maybe he hadn’t heard why? Hopefully.

“You…don’t need to,” Harry choked past his nervousness, “Because you have my pensieve. You know way more about me than I do about you.”

He licked his lips. Yeah, Snape knew a lot about him. Harry felt queasy at the thought. Snape knew more about him than Hermione and Ron knew now…had seen it all…Merlin. At least he didn’t know what Harry was thinking. He wasn’t always using Legilimency, with his eyes boring into Harry’s…he wouldn’t do it all the time, though he could. Right?

“I assure you, there is not very much to tell about me. My past is not like what you have undergone. Not as hard in the same way, at least. You take things differently.”

He turned away then, like he’d said too much. Harry grabbed that opportunity.

“We’re both lonely, though.”

Snape sat down on a chair with a sigh. “You, lonely? Potter, your entire House loves you.”

“That doesn’t mean they understand me!!”

Just like that, his anger had returned. Nice, talking, neutrality, forgotten. Snape loved to rankle Harry. Harry wouldn’t stand for it.

“Oh, stop being such a girl, Potter! Man up! This is the real world, people aren’t going to understand you, and they aren’t going to want to! They’re going to want a piece of Harry Potter but they won’t actually give a damn. Deal with it! I thought you’d already seen that. Isn’t that why you had the Quibbler interview you? Isn’t that why you take shelter in your true friends? Understanding is hard to come by! I know people who would pay Galleons for it. People don’t want to understand you, and life is lonely, and most people don’t care about anyone except themselves. The end.”

“Forget that,” Harry said. “You’re just a jaded, bitter old -”

“OLD!” Snape bolted from his chair and whirled around the table. He stood in front of Harry, in his face, scowling down at him. “If I’m just an old, miserable, bat of a man, then why did you kiss me?”

Harry stared up at him, stunned at the question. He couldn’t get words out.

“Ingrate,” Snape spat, “You should leave me alone.”

He sped away and was at the door when Harry shouted, “No! I won’t!”

He rushed to the door, and before Snape could turn the knob, he had grabbed it. It was good to feel that warmth seeping in from the other man’s hand into his. He gripped it tightly.

Snape stared at him, his eyes wide, with no anger written on his face.

He pushed Snape up against the door, and grabbed hold of the man’s hands. They were so close together now. Harry’s breath was hot in his mouth and he tingled with nerves.

“I won’t leave you alone,” he snarled. “I won’t! Because you don’t want to be alone! You’ve tried to lie to me and you think that you’re a bad bargain - but you’re wrong. I know you don’t want to be alone, and I won’t let you lie anymore. Not to yourself, and definitely not to me. I can see what you’re hiding.”

“What will you do with that knowledge?” Snape rasped. For once he was not hiding. His dark eyes were boring into Harry as they never had before, sucking him in…they were full of yearning and on edge and serious. His hands were clammy and his boots scuffed Harry’s trainers.

“I’m going to open you up,” Harry whispered, “But only so that I can see.”

Then, naturally it felt, he tilted his head and kissed the man. This time it felt right to be slow and cautious. He was gentle. The mouth against his was warm and inviting. The long, lean body against his, sandwiched between him and the door, thrummed with an impatient energy. Snape could deny with words what he wanted, but his very physical self gave him away.

When Harry drew the tip of his tongue softly over that narrow mouth, he knew it was a moment. It was not his choice whether to pull away or not. It was Snape’s. But he wouldn’t let go, now would he? Harry wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not now.

With a sigh that was a sort of moan, Severus allowed Harry in. His tongue lazily drifted out to meet Harry’s, a truce, and then in another moment he was consuming Harry in a fire. He grabbed Harry’s head, ten finger points pressing hard into Harry’s scalp. His tongue pushed into Harry’s mouth, and his body moved back against the door, forcing Harry to move in even closer to get any contact.

A hot, wet tongue was gliding in Harry’s mouth, tasting him, testing him, rending him apart. Thirsty, Severus was forceful in communicating his want. His long fingers pulled at Harry’s hair and played with it, his mouth moved over Harry’s, exploring, and his body trembled when Harry pushed in so close that they were a matched set.

Harry moaned at the passion in Severus. The fluttering in his belly became a sweet burning. He kissed Severus over and over, hard, soft, long, short. He thrust his tongue hard, twisting, licking, and a groan of pleasure rumbled up from deep in Severus’s throat. It made that burn in Harry harder to handle. Merlin, he sounded good!

When they pulled away finally, gasping for breath, Harry couldn’t stop. He still tingled in nervousness but it was a background thing in comparison to the burn. From their grip over Severus’s hands, his hands moved instinctively upwards. He pushed past the dark sleeves of robes, over long fingers and bony knuckles, past strong wrists, and then –

The man winced beneath his touch, and a heavy sigh fell from him involuntarily. Harry resisted the urge to step back. He knew. His hand was over the Dark Mark that was branded on Severus’s left arm.

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More soon! Any and all ideas are welcome. I like seeing what things people think of.
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