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Because We Are Snakes	By : Setsuna24 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 44500 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 19
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any recognizable characters or materials I make no money from this story and its just written for fun

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Because We Are Snakes – The Taste Of Sin

It happened that two days after his talk –and snogging session- with Theo, on a lovely Saturday Morning, Harry found himself in the Great Hall stuffing himself with an inordinate amount of bacon and sausages. Hermione was looking at him in utter curiosity since she had never seen this kind of behavior on him before while the twins, who had seen him eat this desperately before, had a closer hypothesis in their head as to the why of it than she could ever come up with.

It was not hitting the spot at all, the meat was too cooked for what he needed, and he cursed himself for not paying closer attention to his bodily needs after they had not become the urgent nagging need and maddening craving his hunger had been while the egg was inside him.

His tongue darted out in between some bites to lick at his lips and subtly scent/taste the air around him. Really, he shouldn’t have let it get this bad by not paying attention. Foxes before him, in between them a female cat and peaches, toad and herbs to one side and apples to the other. Vanilla, sandalwood, raven, pears and morning dew. So many scents the people around him carried and under those scents, so many more. Many of them made his mouth water. He wanted to rip them all apart and see their warm blood rain around him as he sunk his teeth in tender delicious flesh.

Hermione was the most tempting at the moment, the combination of peaches and female cat really seemed like something he wanted to try. Then, suddenly something else caught his attention. The door to the Great Hall opened and in came Snape talking to one of his Prefects. A slight breeze passed the man and spicy cinnamon hit his senses. Hidden undertones of blood, carefully concealed darkness, morning dew and exotic herbs, Fire Whisky, and thunder, and rich dark chocolate. All those scents hidden under the spicy cinnamon were oh so very tempting when mixed together so perfectly.

The potions master had stopped with his Prefect right on the open doors and every new breeze just brought more of his scent to Harry’s hungry pallet and made his mouth fill with venom. It was the scent of sin, of hot warm sin, so delicious and forbidden and at that moment Harry wanted both to fuck the man and eat him whole at the same time because he would not be able to stop one thing while going for the other giving the choice.

Snape tasted like a heady dessert he really, reaaaally, wanted to taste… and he had never paid attention to it before… or, as he suspected, his scenting glands had finished maturing and picking up more than they were doing before. As the breeze continued to come in from the open door, his mind dimmed into that primal animal mind that was pure instinct, the one it had slipped into while nesting.

His eyes locked on the man intently, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to jump on its unsuspecting prey, and his head moved slightly side to side following the man’s every minute move just like a cobra before it stroke at a mouse.

At the same time this happened, Snape must have sensed something, perhaps the intent eyes trained on him, and quickly searched the Hall for the culprit only to find Harry Potter’s eyes looking at him intensely. The look in the boy’s eyes, it was strange, and irrational fear trickled down his spine from its intensity. He was momentarily shocked and confused before becoming angry at the boy for looking at him with such strange gaze.

Things became even stranger for the man as the boy lifted his chin slightly as if smelling the air at the same time another breeze swept past Snape. Those eyes closed momentarily, a sigh escaped parted lips, and with that strange gaze Potter pinned him while he licked his lips as if he could actually taste something incredible. Snape found himself unnerved and his conversation abruptly ended when he could not properly look at Potter and access the cognitive part of his mind that enabled him to talk. A primal part of his brain seemed to have overridden any other function at the moment and his body was paralyzed as it decided if either fight or flight would be the appropriate response. He had not felt like this in years.

While the staring match between Snape and Harry had been going on –which was going on a minute long and counting by now- four others were paying rapt attention to the proceedings. Hermione and the twins looked at Harry in hidden concern, not wanting to draw the attention of the other occupants of the table, which thankfully were engrossed in their own food and conversation and not looking at Harry for once. They had no idea what was going on but the twins suspected from Harry’s look it was nothing good. Across the Hall, Draco Malfoy, was also paying close attention to Harry’s actions. He was always paying attention to Harry ever since their encounter weeks ago, hoping to discover something that would explain the enigma Potter had become, and at his moment he too felt fear of the boy. This time for his head of house. Potter looked feral.

Meanwhile, Harry was going through his third fantasy about eating Snape and fucking him while at it, they were switching back and forth from one thing to the other at lightning speed in his head. He snapped out of his daze and blinked, Harry took in Snape’s dark gaze on him and the man’s defensive stance, and backtracked his mind to analyze his last thoughts. Before he could have a chance to properly freak out about what had just happened to him –in the Great Hall of all places… where anyone could have seen…- someone else entered the open door and stood right next to Snape to engage him in conversation. The Prefect had walked away and the two men spoke by the still open doors.

That breeze, that cursed breeze which moments before had brought Harry such luring and tempting scent, had now brought to his scent glands the foulest most disgusting and abhorrent scent he had ever smelt. It was utterly repugnant in its wrongness. Like death and putrefaction under bright sunlight, sulfur and heat mixed with sugar and flowers. It was so wrong, so wrong in so many ways, like one thing was trying to make up or hide the other but just couldn’t manage it. It reminded Harry of Dudley pouring cologne on himself after boxing practice because he was too lazy to shower and how the clash of smells form the cologne and his sweaty body made the smell all the worse than if it had just been the smell of sweat alone. But this was even worse because this smell so completely wrong in such a base deep level that it was not something he could hope to explain.

He gagged then, when the wind brought him another mouthful, he could honestly not contain himself and did get sick to his stomach enough to throw up all over the floor. The abhorrent taste had been like thick oil that just kept sliding down his throat and making his stomach heavy and he just had to expel its corruption out of his system as he heaved and held his stomach bending over to the side to avoid puking on himself.

“I think someone poisoned his food!” He heard someone cry on his table and was absentmindedly thankful that either Fred or George had the intelligence to provide such wonderfully convenient cover up to his episode.

Dumbledore, who had been twinkling his blue eyes at Snape as they talked moved faster than his age would suggest with the Potion’s Master in tow toward Harry who had now gotten so weak he was holding on to the side of the table to keep from falling onto his own vomit. From the Head Table, McGonnagal was also making her way toward her lion.

Snape tasted Harry’s food for poison and, amazingly, actually got a positive reading from his spell. There had actually been poison in the food. It was a serendipitous event which served to give credence to the twins’ idea of what was wrong with their friend. Though in actuality Harry was, so far as he knew, immune to all poisons due to his very mouth producing the strongest poison known to wizardkind.
Harry tried, weak as he was, to keep his face pointed away from Dumbledore as much as he could and went as far as to actually seek Snape’s scent to try and counteract the foulness the old man made him feel. Harry had not been this close to Dumbledore in weeks and cursed that today of all days the man had to stand in the breeze so close to him, today when his scent glands finally reached full maturity and he had yet to learn how to deal with the new intensity of scents around him. How he wished the Headmaster had done today as he had been doing before and entered the Hall by the staff door behind the Head Table just after breakfast was in full swing and left right before it ended through the same door. Instead, the old man had chosen today of all day to enter through the main doors and stand in the path of the breeze to talk to Snape.

Harry decided, as he was carried by a floating stretcher behind McGonnagal to the Hospital Wing, that the Headmaster smelt like pure sin.

But, if Snape had smelt like the kind of sin you want to thoroughly engage in until it takes you into the most pleasurable of hells, this sin, this sin tasted like the kind of foul corruption that would bring hellfire and brimstone and decay to all it touched. All his scents mixed in a heavy cloud of sugar and lemon and the scent of the air after lightning were the most repulsive combination he had ever experienced. It was disgusting and sickening in all the possible meanings of the words and the terrible oily sort of taste it left in Harry’s tongue and throat was so bloody awful he had wanted to keep throwing up all over the Great Hall just to get it out of his mouth. He did not know what the hell the old man had done to earn himself such a clinging oily taste of complete defilement and decay and corruption of nature, but whatever it was, it must have been terrible. A sin so great it had permeated his very body, soul, and magic. It clung to him like a second skin and followed him around like a suffocating cloud.
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Because We Are Snakes