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Unleashed	By : lordoberon Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 17651 -:- 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
- 15
- 16
- 17
Ok, so I realized they need more time together where they aren't working at the demons, so perhaps this will be more than 20 chapters. Agh. Oh well.

This chapter is a sortof fun in-between chapter before more plot kicks in. I'm going to try my best to update this fic every couple of days now. I have an International flight on the 16th, and I have to finish this fic by then!

Oh and by the way - Harry is kindof horny in this chapter, heh. Is it good, or Out Of Character?

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UNLEASHED

by lordoberon

Chapter 16

“Don’t,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure what he was commanding, or who. He did not want to look at the Dark Mark. It sent too much fury and dread into him. It would wreck everything. Surely that was why Severus sighed.

He gripped the arm in question tightly, tight enough to bruise, and then kept his exploration moving. Up, past narrow but strong biceps, to those distracting shoulders. He traced their outline, and then tickled his fingers up the side of Severus’s neck.

As he did this, he watched, curious. Severus had his head back. His eyes were halfway open, but he looked at Harry intently. He had long, beautiful eyelashes. When Harry’s fingers brushed up his neck, his tongue darted out to lick his lips. That made Harry want to kiss him again.

So he did, groaning softly as that skilled tongue played and pulled, pushed and thrust. Mmm. Then he couldn’t seem to stop, and his tongue edged out of Severus’s mouth to glide along a soft cheek. He tucked Severus’s dark hair behind his ear, and then licked over the ear in one long swipe.

“Mmm. Please.” Severus’s entire body shuddered beneath him.

Harry licked again, and still Severus’s energy was begging, more. So he licked, and kept on, harder. He licked up, and down, and in, and then he took the earlobe in his mouth and sucked. Merlin this was good. He felt a flush ride down to his neck, and his hands were suddenly tighter on Severus’s shoulders.

“Please,” Severus whispered. He sounded weak, needing, a man who could only be satisfied by Harry and wanted it right this second.

Harry let himself go. His nerves leaked away, as he sucked Severus’s earlobe harder, hungrier. He even dared to bite with his teeth, moaning, pushing his body tighter into Severus. Then his teeth nipped a trail down, down that sensitive neck – Severus hissed – to the shoulder, where he sucked and licked until he created a red welt.

Then he didn’t want to stop, and his nerves were unheard of. He pushed his fingers against the neckline of Severus’s robes, and was surprised when the cloth gave way easily. A loud ripping sound pierced the air.

Unthinkingly, he let his hand fall down over the pale chest with dark, curling hair, the flat round perfect nipples, towards the belly…

Then a hand grabbed his, halting his movement, and a stern throat clearing made him look up from the heart-pounding progress.

Severus’s gaze needled a glare into him.

He had ripped a pair of robes, he supposed, albeit they were old and easily damaged. Harry grinned sheepishly. “Er. Whoops. Sorry.”

“You’re never sorry,” Severus growled. “Not to me.”

Harry laughed. He wasn’t sure if Severus meant that in a literal sense, or in a chastising sense that he shouldn’t feel sorry, because Severus wouldn’t allow it.

His nerves sparked in him again. He kept his hand in Severus’s hold, unsure what to do with it now. “Am I…is this…is this too fast?”

Severus grinned evilly. “I think we’ll have some talking to do soon. But at the moment…”

He kissed Harry again, hard and strong and hungry. Merlin! Then his cool, soft hands traced Harry’s face. For once it seemed he could look at Harry forever, instead of looking away. His hand took hold of Harry’s jaw, turning him this way and that, studying him, and then he was kissing Harry again, fiercely.

Harry wondered, why couldn’t he just keep going with the robes? Did Severus think he wasn’t actually interested? If he took off his shirt or something would Severus lose some of his rigid self-control for once?

He decided to try it, though it was an obvious manipulation. Twisting out of the arms that embraced him, he stepped back, and before Severus could move or say differently, he shrugged out of his shirt.

Then he stood there, silent, just smiling. He let his hands fall to his sides and be still and just looked at Severus.

The man looked back. His gaze roved all over Harry, trying to return to his face but unable to hold that for long. He took in everything, and his gaze lingered at Harry’s belt. Harry swallowed. The lust Severus Snape had for him, suddenly obvious in that one look, was titillating and nerve-wracking. He suddenly was at a loss as to what to do with that. He’d never had anyone undress him before, but suddenly wished Severus would. At the same time he didn’t want to be naked in front of anyone.

His heart thumped in his throat and his body pulsed desire, tight in his trousers. Finally Severus responded with a hoarse spell casting, and the lamp light in the room increased marginally.

He walked forward, and then, irritatingly, passed Harry and sat down on one of the chairs. There he remained. He was smiling. The only sign of any nerves in him was how he drew his fingertips across his lips. But it seemed rather light and thoughtful, not tense.

Harry wanted to go to him but he simultaneously did not want to. He wanted to continue and yet he was nervous. He wanted to not have the choice, and was angry, but also was glad Severus gave it to him. How far would Severus go with him? And for Merlin’s sake, could he call him Severus now? Yet…it sounded weird even in his mind.

He turned around and glared at the older man. “You’re maddening. I hope you know that.”

That only made Severus’s smile get toothier. He chuckled. This maddened Harry further. It was a low chuckle that was somehow sexy.

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, “Fine.”

He stalked forward, and when he slipped a knee in to rest next to Severus’s thigh, the man’s composure slipped and his surprise came shining through. Harry laughed, happy to have the upper hand. He put his other knee in and gingerly sat, straddling the other man atop the squishy armchair. These ones were much nicer than the ones downstairs.

He settled further in the man’s lap, trying to ease tension from his muscles with a big sigh. Severus’s eyes fluttered suddenly. His hands shot to Harry’s shoulders. His voice became suddenly small, and he choked out something, but all Harry caught was “fuck.”

He wanted to know what it was, what was wrong? But then he knew, and was captured. For beneath him was desire, a bulging heat beneath his arse that pressed up at him. He was unable to ignore it. He wanted more of it! But he also wanted to shy away.

Desire won out, and he purposefully wiggled himself down further, ignoring how Severus’s hands gripped his shoulders in a painful vice. He grinded down, once, twice, and then it became an addicting rhythm. At the same time – for Severus was sitting with his eyes shut, sitting back, quite useless – his hands played with the ripped robes, his fingers teased nipples and hair.

The more he grinded, the more he sweated. It felt good. He couldn’t help the sounds that came out of him, because even though he hadn’t really imagined it before, the sensation of that firm cock against his arse was good. And it got harder, which was even better. The thought of it made him move a little faster, so he was bouncing. Was that a ‘Harry’ on Severus’s lips?

Finally his Potions Master seemed to get a hold of himself. “Please,” he ground out, “Please, don’t…”

Harry was panting, bouncing, mmm his body felt so tight and good. “Don’t…stop? That’s…what you mean, right?”

He wanted to see more of Severus. His body ached with pleasure. The burn was a scorching flame now. He felt his heart beating and his cock pulsed, trapped in his trousers, pleading for some action, more, please.

For the second time in the course of two days, he found himself pushed forcibly out of something pleasant. This time when he toppled to the ground, he was even angrier.

“No!” he shouted. “Not right in the middle of things! Merlin! Bollocks to you, alright? When are you going to stop resisting?”

“You’re only seventeen, Potter,” Snape ground out. “I’m not going to be controlled by the lustful whims of a teenager.”

“OH COME ON!” Harry bellowed. “‘MAN UP,’ YOU SAID! My ARSE, you’re such a hypocrite!! You know you want it too so don’t blame it on me! It’s not bad if we both want it, and…”

And I know you’ll take care of me. But he didn’t say that.

“Just because we want it, does not mean we get it. Furthermore, a wise man thinks things over first. Patience is a virtue.”

“Stop spouting bullshit,” Harry growled. “It wasn’t your brain responding just now.” He waved at Severus’s state.

The usually dignified man was slumped in his chair, with his head lolling on the back cushion. His hands gripped the chair tightly. His robes were ripped from neck to belly, but not down to his navel. His arousal was obvious, hard and thrusting in his robes. His booted feet were barely on the floor, resting on his heels. That, and the way he bit his lips, with his dark hair a messy halo around him, was a lovely sight. His eyes blazed lust.

But he had no reply for Harry, and just sat.

Harry sighed heavily, and inched backward until he could lie down flat on the red Indian carpet. He looked up in the dark room, straining to see the ceiling rafters. “Please?”

The Potions Master sucked in a deep breath. “I’m taking a walk.”

Just like that, holding his robes tight around him, he left the room at a brisk walk, and shut the door quietly.

Harry groaned at the ceiling. “Really?” He considered following, but decided against it. He didn’t want another argument. He was sick of them.

So he went for his usual solution, and took a bath.

=====

Severus had lost it. He’d thought he’d lost it already, lost control, when he’d ripped the wall in his sitting room apart. But no, that wasn’t the end. He was losing it right now, this very second…losing control, which he had fine tuned so well year after year…

He’d survived six years of Harry Potter at Hogwarts. Why couldn’t he survive some time with Harry Potter in his home? He didn’t have to see the boy. He didn’t have to interact with him very much at all. He could, and should, be holed up in his lab.

Instead, he was kissing that gorgeous creature in his library without abandon, and letting him sit atop him like a prince on a throne and steal any composure or control Severus had left.

Fuck him to the high heavens. Severus did not like losing control. It made him angry. He hated feeling vulnerable. Stalking the cold pavement around his neighborhood with only a thin coat to protect him, he whirled in circles and wheeled around corners, utterly lost.

Part of him wanted to go back and blast spells at Potter, so that Potter would feel lost and crazy, too. Part of him was afraid of returning to the house…afraid of what he would do. Potter was only seventeen, and a fairly innocent seventeen. He was nothing like how Severus had been at that age. There was uncertainty and also wreckless abandon to him. Even though he’d lost his parents, lost friends, lost Dumbledore, and dealt with more hell than any human being should have to deal with…he was alive, he was fresh and fun and ridiculous. Sometimes he seemed very much a young, inexperienced, overeager seventeen.

And not moreso, than when teenage hormones were making him throw himself on top of Severus, Severus, who was nearly forty, never quite happy, and, apparently, looked more often like a bat than a civil human being.

Yet there was more to it. And that was what really scared Severus. It wasn’t just hormones. There was some genuine need and feeling behind the looks Potter had given him today. The way Potter had grabbed his hand, and said that he knew Severus was hiding…he had been right. His gaze had seared into Severus and read him.

Severus had thought no one could read him. Since the death of Lily Potter, he had not had anyone, except perhaps old Dumbledore, who could read what was in his head, and what was in his heart, and who he was.

Young Harry Potter, with his eyes just then gazing into Severus with something like love and need, knew Severus. He had seen in the course of a month or so, what everyone else did not know. Severus Snape was afraid of human contact, physical or emotional. He did not want to put his heart out into the world again. It had only given him a world of pain. So to keep himself safe, he projected an extremely mean personality on everyone – even when he did not feel it sometimes – and shooed everyone away.

But Potter was stubborn. He wanted in on Severus’s life. He’d already gotten in on Severus’s head. Somehow having Potter say what he’d said, it felt like Potter knew Severus better than Severus knew Potter. Even though he was the one looking through Potter’s entire life in a pensieve! Merlin!

He felt like Potter had seen his essence, and it shook him to his core.

Kissing Potter had been a welcome distraction, after that. Guilt made him stop it, and also fear. He was too vulnerable, and yet also dangerous, with this hungry, beautiful Harry just begging to be played with, to be kissed and licked all over and fucked until he couldn’t walk. It was all too much.

Severus did not like feeling so vulnerable, in his mind or his body. He didn’t know what to do with it. So he did what he always had, and pulled away.

It felt so good to be in the fresh air. It calmed his jittery nerves and nattering mind a little. When all was said and done, he was going to have to return to the house, and he was going to have to deal with Potter.

He stood on the bridge, as he always liked to do, and gazed down into the water. The more it flowed sluggishly by, the more he felt his thoughts calm down.

What of love? For love was in his heart, and it wanted to reach its tendrils out to Harry. It wanted to grasp him and have him for his own. It wanted Harry by his side as long as could be. Harry might lust for Severus, but did he harbor any feelings?

A little hopeful voice in him said yes. Another voice said, who are you kidding, he’s seventeen, he doesn’t know what love is. But then he thought of himself at seventeen, at sixteen, at fifteen…age had not mattered, when he fell deeply in love with Lily Evans. Why should it matter now? Who was he to say a young man could not fall in love? And who was he to say that age mattered so much? Really it was his fear of messing up what they had, or taking advantage of a case of teenage libido, which made him balk.

How perfectly delicious it had been, to have Harry’s tongue in his mouth…to hear the young man moan to the tune of Severus’s tongue. To have him just begging to touch Severus and play with him…it was so absurd. Severus had burned to touch back, but that cautious, wise old part of him said, no. Don’t. Don’t. He’s just a boy. You know that if you start, you won’t be able to stop. Don’t break him. He hasn’t been broken by so many things, but you’re powerful, you’re aching, and he wants you. You could break him. Don’t do it.

How could it be that Harry Potter wanted him? Him? It made no sense. How had that happened? That he was brave, or witty, or wise, or somehow attractive, in Harry’s mind, did not seem enough. Was all that enough for Harry Potter to thirst to know him, and throw himself at Severus? Yet he had seen those eyes intensely staring at him, green as green could be. It was Harry, not the demons, who longed for Severus. He longer for Severus in more ways than one, it seemed.

Severus clenched his hands tightly against the cold wood of the bridge and shut his eyes. It hurt to think of all this. He could not be elated. He could only think cautiously. How could he fix this? He did not want to hurt Harry. If he kept on like this, he would hurt him.

Perhaps he should leave, and let Lupin take over…but no. Severus couldn’t. He was in too far. He always had been. He had tried so hard not to be, but now…after having tasted those lips…he couldn’t stop. Maybe he should, because it was wise. He had picked wisdom and pain over enjoyment and ease before. Why couldn’t he do it now?

It was the horcruxes. He knew Harry had to find them, and could only do so after the demons were out. Once Harry was on the horcrux hunt, he was on the way to the end of Voldemort. Once Voldemort was ended – for Severus couldn’t bear to think of any alternative – then Harry was on the way to the rest of his life. A life which would not involve Severus.

Now was all the time he had left. So like a grieving person, he could not be away more than necessary. So if he had to stay, just to see Harry more, even if it would be awkward now…he would.

And he couldn’t stop loving Harry. That was something he still didn’t know what to do about.

He returned home, and sank into the first hot bath he’d had in a long while.

The following day was a stormy one. But the dark outside did not match the inside. To Severus’s surprise, Harry was cheerful, even after the events of the night before. When Severus sat down to lunch after brewing all morning, the boy looked up from his book with a smile.

“Hey. I discovered you like Quidditch. Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Severus finished a bite of his soup and looked over at Harry. The boy was sprawled (always stretching over everything!) on the frayed grey carpet in front of a bookshelf (a very dangerous spot, in Severus’s house). The mess from the broken wall behind Severus had been cleared, and the family portrait was propped up at the bottom of the stairway, staring at Severus’s back.

“Unlike some people, I don’t advertise myself so widely, Mister Potter. Furthermore, I’ve already had Minerva and Madam Hooch harass me about getting on a broomstick. I refuse.”

Curiosity glinted in those glowing emeralds. “Why?”

“Airsick,” Severus explained. He drank down the rest of his soup, and then stood up. “That bloody portrait is staring at me every time I come downstairs. May I store it in your room? It’s the only room in the house I don’t visit. The portrait was easy enough to avoid when it was on the wall.”

“Well,” Harry frowned, “whose fault is that?”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, Potter, berate me all you like. Everyone gets angry sometimes. Now then. Can I put it up in your room?”

The boy shrugged. “Sure.”

He followed Severus as he levitated the heavy portrait up the stairs. The room that Harry stayed in had the curtains drawn back to let light in. His bag sat in one corner, clothes spilling out of it. His bed was unmade, and the little old-fashioned writing desk in the corner had all drawers open, as if it had been raided for supplies.

Severus raised a brow. He let the portrait rest on the empty wall perpendicular from the doorway, and turned to the young man.

“Do you keep such a charming style at the Dursleys, as well, or is this just for my pleasure?”

The teenager crossed his arms from where he stood in the doorway. “It’s my room, for now, isn’t it? I can do what I want with it.”

“Hmph.” Severus flicked his wand, and immediately the desk righted itself and the bed was made. “Trust a Gryffindor, and a Potter, to keep his home a sty. Your father was much the same. I remember his compartment in the train – always a mess.”

Harry did not move an inch when Severus walked forward to leave the room. He frowned back at Severus’s scowl, but then his expression brightened. “Yeah, which you only saw ‘cause my mother was there.” He scratched an arm and then asked, “So…er…tell me more about her?”

Ah. Severus had known this would come, too. Give an inch, and Harry Potter would ask you for a mile and three quarters. Damn him.

He sat down on the edge of the newly-made bed, pressing his fingers into his knees. “What would you like to know?”

Harry walked inside, shutting the door behind him. He plopped down onto the bed with a strange edge of familiarity and comfort, and stretched his legs out so that his feet hovered somewhere behind Severus. It made Severus on edge to have him so close.

“What did she think of your treatment of…my aunt?”

“Petunia?” Severus’s lip curled in distaste. “That little brat…ah, she was always after your mother, pestering her about magic, especially once I started telling Lily what I knew…I wanted her to just leave us alone…”

He felt sick just remembering the pain of it. His attachment to Lily had seemed to increase with every day that he spent more time with her. It would have been so perfect…it should have been…except for that scowling Petunia, always following them everywhere, listening on their conversations. He remembered her pointing out their locked hands once, and Severus had been forced to pull away. He never meant ill to Lily, never, but Petunia had always made him out to be some vagabond, ready to kidnap Lily or do something bad to her. Was his good intent that invisible? He could never hurt Lily…

And yet…he had, bringing her to death, and he still hurt her, by hurting her son…the sight of her coming out of Voldemort’s wand in Harry’s memory of his Fourth Year had jarred him…

He didn’t realize that a tear or two had escaped him, until a warm finger caught them and brushed them away.

Harry was leaning towards Severus, so that now their shoulders touched. His warm fingertips brushed the tears up into Severus’s hair before his hand fell down to Severus’s shoulder. In a rasping voice, he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I…I knew better than to ask. I just…couldn’t help it…I have so many questions…”

And well he should. If Severus were in Harry Potter’s place, he too would burn with questions. With longing. Even to know details seemed to be a step closer to knowing those he had lost. Except the truth was that he would never know. Dipping into a pensieve would be a small semblance of knowing them. Yet even that wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be. Nothing could bring them back.

Severus turned his head to look at the boy. The scar was stark on the forehead of his pale face. His hand gripped Severus’s shoulder tightly. Severus took a deep breath, and then put his hand over Harry’s.

“Don’t be sorry.”

He allowed himself a moment’s indulgence – even as another part of him knew this was the end of control – and lifted his hand to brush through Harry’s hair and pat him soothingly on the head. “I don’t begrudge you your questions.”

He was surprised when the boy moved closer, and rested his head on Severus’s shoulder. Severus let it be, nervous. He pressed his clammy hands against his robes.

“May I ask about them?” Harry whispered. One small finger pointed to the portrait against the empty wall.

“Them,” Severus snorted. “There is nothing to say.”

That full head of hair moved against his shoulder, up, and the green eyes were looking at him intently. “Were they kind to you?”

Severus licked his lips. “I think you already know the answer to that,” he said stiffly. He hated even thinking about them. Except sometimes, late at night, memories of his mother would float in…she had come to him in dreams, sometimes. They were pleasant dreams, laughing and floating in the garden…nothing like real life. His father had made that sort of happiness impossible.

Harry’s hand gripped his arm suddenly. Severus became very, very still. This touching and grabbing was so…so…odd, and discomfiting. But at the same time, he liked it. Too much. He liked the care that he felt radiating from Harry in that touch.

“Did they hurt you?”

Severus traced an old scar on one wrist. “No,” he said quietly, “Not physically. They hurt each other more than they hurt me, physically. Emotionally…yes, there are some scars. My mother…” He took a deep breath. “She had high hopes for me in school. She tried to be there for me…but it was hard for her. There was only so much abuse and depression she could tolerate. My father…he couldn’t have cared less about me. Magic frightened him.”

There was a long silence. Severus wondered how on earth Harry got these truths out of him. Was it the lovely scent in that dark hair, so close to his face? Was it that grip on his arm, now softened?

“Sometimes…I scare Dudley on purpose, by talking about magic and taking my wand out. Do you think that’s wrong?”

Hmm. Well after what he’d seen of all the abuse Harry had gotten from Dudley, no. He would hex that boy to kingdom come if he could. But he had to answer rightly. The teacher in him was ingrained. But…this was Harry. He would know if Severus did a bald-faced lie.

“I am supposed to say yes, however, if you want my personal opinion…no. He deserves it. What did you expect me to say? I am a Slytherin.”

“Hmm.” Harry sat up, looking hard at Severus. “Don’t be stupid. I don’t fall for the assumption that all Slytherins are evil. I know better now…I mean…look at you. Look at Malfoy, even if it was out of cowardice that he couldn’t kill Dumbledore…”

Severus cracked his knuckles in the silent room. He rubbed over the Dark Mark beneath his robes. “Don’t be so quick to assign me a good place in your head, Potter,” he admonished. “After all, I did sign up voluntarily.”

And he fingered over that spot on his arm on purpose, watching Harry watch him from the corner of his eye. Harry grimaced.

“Yeah, but you’re…Dumbledore’s man,” he whispered. “Like me.”

He looked around the room then, as if perhaps someone were listening. Ha! Severus had better wards than that.

“No need to whisper,” Severus whispered, “Or are you scared?”

“Of course not!” The Gryffindor said. “Just smart.” He winked, an unusual thing for him, and Severus gulped. The wink was quite…well, cute was not a word Severus liked to put in his vocabulary. He would not start now.

He got up and left the room.

The brunette followed him over to the library. “Hey, er. Sorry. Again. About all the questions. Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Severus smiled to himself. Now he asked?

“No,” he said. He took a book from a shelf, and sat down at one of the library chairs. Harry did the same, and for a time, they read.

It took only an hour before Harry broke, though. Severus himself was struggling to keep his attention on the pages, but he would never admit it. It was secretly a welcome thing when the teenager closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

“So, which position would you play? If you didn’t get sick in the air?”

Severus closed his book and stood up. He went to the balcony, and again Harry followed. It was almost annoying, like having a little dog like one of those muggle ladies in their high shoes, but it was also warming, to have the Potter boy be so eager to talk to him.

“I would be a Keeper,” he said decisively. He had thought about it long ago.

“And you, Mister Potter,” he said, just as Harry was opening his mouth for another question. “May I ask you a private question?”

Harry shut his mouth, thought about it, and then nodded.

“Cedric Diggory. A helpful pretty trifle, or something more?”

“Shut it,” Harry said immediately, “Shut it! He was just…a friend. A helpful sort of friend. Acquaintance, more, really. I was jealous of his thing with Cho…but,” he shrugged, “That ended up nowhere, me and her, anyway.”

“So…” Severus looked down at his hands on the railing, and then up at Harry. “Those looks you gave him, secretly, when no one else was looking? Would you have pursued something, if he hadn’t died?”

Harry bit his lip. “No, probably not. You saw how long it took me to go up to Cho…well, guess you haven’t seen that yet, it’s in my Fifth Year…but er….no. I wouldn’t’ve. Too nerve-wracking. I liked him more than I liked her…”

He flushed bright red, and again Severus wanted to cup those smooth cheeks and touch the red flush there.

He smirked as Harry said, “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

“What, that the hero of the wizarding world fantasizes about men as well as women? Of course not. Merlin, I have better things to do than talk to the press.”

Harry smiled a small, shy smile. “Thanks.” He tried to reach over to take Severus’s hand again, but Severus moved it away. Who did Harry think he was, to warm up so fast? He decided to ask his second question.

“So. Since you’re so awkward with women, apparently, how did it go so well with the youngest Weasley? I’d heard you were happy, until recently. Did she teach you how to use your tongue? I’ve heard she’s quite the vixen.”

Harry’s face turned even redder now. “She is not! That’s just…that’s just a stupid rumor because she went through a few blokes quickly. They usually picked her for her looks and didn’t value her brain much. They didn’t really get to know her very well, who she really is…me and her…it was good with her but…not good enough. Why am I telling you this, anyway??”

Severus smirked. “Because it’s fun. Teenagers like exchanging gossip. So. The tongue? I’m sure you didn’t learn it from Cho Chang. I’ve heard she’s been a cold brick since she went out with you. It must have been like wrestling with a wet eel, I imagine, very sloppy and no room for breathing.”

The young man’s ego was hurt. His hands balled into fists. “You’re such a prat, you know that? With all your little smug smiles. You shut it. You don’t know anything.”

What a juvenile reaction. Severus laughed. “Potter, you’re an open book! Your reaction tells me everything. So the little weasel schooled you? Well…I shall have to thank her for last night, then.”

Laughing still, he made to leave, but a fist grabbed at his robes. “Oi! I might have taken tips from a girl, but that doesn’t mean I’m not good on my own merit. You admit I was good.”

Severus paused, and stifled the growl that wanted to come out. He remembered, alright. That eager tongue thrusting into his mouth, the sucking and licking, the biting…Harry was, indeed, good. Very enthusiastic, but also quite talented with that tongue, and his fingertips and their eager exploration made Severus’s hair stand on end…

He swallowed hard, and said shortly, “Yes. Good indeed.”

He kept walking, and walking quickly. But that warmth, that dogged persistence, was stalking him. Again he found himself forcibly pressed against a surface of his own home, this time the wall by the stairs. He was stuck uneven and unbalanced, with his feet on different steps. He splayed his hands against the wall on either side of him to remain standing. Harry had his hands on Severus’s face, and before Severus could protest, Harry’s mouth had taken control of the situation.

_______________________________________________________________________

Next chapter: more kissing, blood work, danger from the demons, and maybe a bit more Ron and Hermione...oh, and Voldemort. Gotta have more Voldemort.
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