• 1-A Most Trusted Soldier
• 2-2
• 3-3
• 4-4
• 5-5
• 6-6
• 7-7
• 8-8
• 9-9
• 10-10
• 11-11
• 12-12
• 13-13
• 14-14
• 15-15
• 16-16
• 17-17
• 18-18
• 19-19
• 20-20
• 21-21
• 22-22
• 23-23
• 24-24
• 25-25
• 26-26
• 27-Author's Note: update
• 28-Still getting reviews...

Finally, I feel the need to give a warning in this chapter, despite the overall warnings for this fic. This chapter will contain a short scene of domestic violence. It is not overly graphic, but it is there. **whew** Glad that's out of the way. Onward we roll...

The following three weeks had been quiet. Harry and Severus had eased back into their lives as a couple, even resuming their roles as dom and sub. It seems that the three days they had spent apart really had a negative affect on them both. After consulting Hermione they had discovered that the tension on the Amoral bond was actually causing Severus to become depressed, which is likely why the man would have been so willing to let Harry punish him in the extreme. Being away from Harry was literally sucking Severus’ will away. It was illogical. Severus actually had more will power and independence the stronger their bond became. He could be consciously submissive as long as the bond was healthy, but leaving under any form of duress or turmoil without a severance of the Amoral mate bond could have severe consequences. Hermione had warned them that this feature would only intensify once Severus bore children, as the bond would react quicker and more violently if Severus and the children were separated from Harry for extended periods of time.

Harry grated at the information. He never wanted Severus to leave, but he chafed a bit at the thought that Severus would in essence need his permission and cooperation if he ever desired to do so. He wanted to possess Severus like a treasure, not like a slave. Still they had bigger problems, so the emerald-eyed wizard just absorbed the news and moved forward, hoping they never got to learn just what a “violent bond reaction” was.

The last of the Potter line was also not unaffected. Once Severus resettled into the bond and became a bit of his former self, Harry’s Amoral instincts rose full force. Both men had noticed that with each passing day during the first week of Severus’ return Harry was becoming more tense and punchy, cold even. Then on the fifth morning after Severus’ return the younger man had actually become violent.

The entire episode had played out like bad theatre, but it was all too real. Without warning Harry had yanked Severus from dead sleep, pulling him roughly from the bed by his throat and slamming him into the floor. Severus had fought back initially he was caught so off guard, thinking some interloper had broken into the house to assault them, giving Harry a bloodied nose in the process. Once he realized that it was Harry and that fighting back seemed to only enrage the younger man further, Severus desisted. Opting instead to suffer his beating, which he knew he had more than earned.

Half way through the beating he vaguely understood that this particular lashing had nothing to do with their purposely chosen roles as dom and sub, but it had everything to do with Harry’s Amoral inheritance. Severus knew his lover would never resort to physical violence of the magnitude Harry had displayed that morning, pummeling and slapping him around viciously, throwing him over furniture and threatening his life if he ever left again. There was only retribution and ownership in the blows, a pure punishment. Severus knew it was more about his leaving and less about what he had done to Wood. The ordeal had left little doubt in Severus’ mind that the Amoral in Harry had finally reached its full potential, demanding Harry put his foot down so to speak. In any other world Severus would be a battered spouse, but as he had no intentions of ever leaving his lover again the dark wizard had no fear that such physical retribution would ever be repeated.

His anger exhausted, Harry had stormed from the room, leaving a naked Severus lying curled up in a slightly bloodied heap on the bedroom floor. After hearing the Floo flare, Severus had pushed himself up, wincing at what he knew to be cracked ribs, and headed into the bathroom. After showering away most of the blood, he reassessed his injuries and was honestly surprised that his most significant injury were his ribs. His face was a colorful array of stark bruises, his left eye and cheek were swelling before his very eyes, but none of it would last beyond a week or so. He tended the bruises with clean water and a little antibacterial salve to stave off infection, but did not heal himself. By the time he had climbed back between the cool sheets of the bed, with great effort given his injuries, Harry was back home. Not knowing whether to be fearful or happy, Severus just lay in the bed desperately trying to keep his heavy lids open long enough to get his answer.

He heard Harry enter the room and pad over to his side of the bed. Severus lay still as a corpse but did not attempt to feign sleep. He had never run from a thing in his life and he would not start with his lover. He felt the familiar warm, gentle caress of his dom’s hand run from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck, before that loving hand tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. That small gesture had answered his question, he could be happy that Harry had returned home. Relaxing under the watchful gaze of Harry, Severus felt himself start to drift. Just as he was about to be carried off into slumber he heard Harry’s voice ask, “Why? Why did you cast a thrall on those men?”

With a candidness that can only be forced by near sleep, Severus replied through a yawn, “I thought that if I brought you replacements for Wood, then…maybe you’d let me stay too.”

Harry was heartbrokenly astounded by the answer, given so directly and so honestly. Severus had said it with genuine innocence, leading Harry to surmise that the man believed the words he had spoken. Harry let out a frustrated sigh, wondering when, if ever, his lover would feel confidant enough to not doubt his devotion. Suddenly the younger man smiled, realizing that while it would be nice if Severus would release his insecurities, it wasn’t necessary. He could love the man’s flaws, which ran deep, but no deeper than his own. On some level he knew that it was Severus’ imperfections that he found most intriguing.

Looking down upon his battered lover who had fallen into a deep sleep, Harry was surprised that he did not feel any regret about the bruises he had left on the man. Not like their first breeding, when he had been conflicted beyond belief at having attacked Severus so viciously. This was just proof that Hermione knew way too much for one living person. The bushy-haired witch had told him cryptically that he would just know when he had finally merged with his heritage fully. It seems this was that day.

Almost two months had passed since the incident with Wood in Hogsmeade. Since that time no one had caught a glimpse of Oliver Wood, but shortly following Severus’ return to the farmhouse he had received a note from Blaise informing him in very subtle language that he should be on the lookout for the bitter wizard. There was a lot to dislike about Slytherins but loyalty to their own was one of their better attributes; and Severus was grateful that he had been so lucky to still inspire that from Blaise.

Enemies, they came to Severus like bees to honey. Ironically, of all that had transpired in the last three years, picking up a new enemy was the thing that was least surprising to the ex-Death Eater. The looming threat of an adversary, even one as slimy and unimaginative as Wood was turning out to be, left the infamous spy feeling charged and invigorated. He had always had a thirst for danger, why else would one toy with the trust of the darkest wizard to grace their world. The mere knowledge that Wood was in all likelihood brooding somewhere, soothing his bruised ego and plotting some pathetic scheme of revenge left Severus positively aching with anticipation for a good fight—aching and horny. Danger was an aphrodisiac like none other and Severus loved the dark passion it summoned inside him.

Slipping a ribbon between the pages of the book he was reading and setting the thick volume aside on the parlor table, Severus eased from his comfy chair by the fire and made his way into the kitchen, where Harry was preparing supper. The intermittent clanking of his mate’s movements inside the kitchen greeted him as he silently pushed his way through the café swing doors that led inside. The smell of pork roast with apple brandy glaze and roasted vegetables hung heavily in the air. Severus inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of one of Harry’s best dishes, while feasting his eyes on a more succulent dish than the roast.

Harry stood at the counter slicing slivers of chocolate off a large block, oblivious to Severus’ presence. Severus removed his shoes and socks, taking a moment to also unbutton his shirt, before he crept over to Harry. He pressed his body firmly against Harry from behind, snaking a hand around and underneath his dom’s shirt to firmly stoke that hard six-pack his lover sported.

He felt Harry tense briefly in surprise as he dipped his head to whisper, “May I kiss the cook?”, before he proceeded to tongue and suckle the sensitive area just behind Harry’s earlobe. Harry let out a deep groaning sigh, which made Severus’ cock twitch in anticipation. Fully aware that he was being naughty, Severus removed Harry’s wand from his back pocket. Bemused that the younger man still carried it in such a haphazard manner, he used the infamous holly and phoenix feather wand to flick a stasis charm around the food. Still working the skin along the right side of Harry’s neck, Severus shoved a hand into his lover’s jeans, palming the hot, thick, semi-soft organ that never failed to bring him so much pleasure.

“I’m…so…hungry,” Severus whispered between sucks, his voice deep and oozing sex.

“Allow me to feed you then,” Harry replied breathlessly, turning around quickly so that he and Severus were pressed flush groin to groin.

Severus steadied Harry against the counter and said coolly, “At the other end,” his eyes glazed with arousal and his cheeks coloring from his bold move.

Harry wasted no time in pushing Severus’ unbuttoned shirt from his upper body, his cock hardening further at the sight of Severus arching out of the shirt as he slid it over his sub’s shoulders. He left it dangling at those sharp elbows, in effect restricting Severus’ reach.

Severus continued dominating the kiss, his tongue snaking in and out of Harry’s mouth, savoring the subtle sweetness that always seems to linger on his dom’s palate. Harry hissed in pain as the sharp edge of the counter pressed into his upper buttocks as Severus attempted to crawl into his throat. As their kisses grew wetter and breathier, Severus felt Harry’s hand reach down to flick apart the hook closure on his finely woven, light wool trousers.

“You aren’t wearing any underpants,” Harry murmured around Severus’ kisses, his lips already feeling puffy from the assault of his lover’s teeth and lips.

Severus grunted in response, too busy rubbing himself off on Harry’s palm to bother with words, his hands struggling to reach higher than Harry’s hips due to his arms being trapped by the fabric of his button down.

With a frustrated growl, Severus pulled away and flung his shirt off fully, his eyes never straying from Harry, who continued to lean against the kitchen counter lazily fingering his own crotch through the fabric of his jeans.

Severus removed the clasp from his hair, the long strands spilling about his shoulders and down his upper back like silk. He then unzipped his trousers, which pooled to the floor around his slender, shapely legs, before stepping out of them and sauntering over to one of the kitchen chairs. With a mischievous, calculating gleam in his eye, Severus flipped one of the chairs around, sitting so that he faced Harry. He slouched down on top of the chair, spreading those long, pale legs so that his eager cock was on proud display. He hung his head back along the edge of the chair, draping his hair over the back like a ragged shawl.

With his eyes closed, and his mind focused on the heavy, rapid breathing coming from Harry, Severus began methodically, sensuously running his hands up and down his torso, allowing the fingers of one hand to detour across his nipples with stood painfully erect as the other smoothed over his inner thigh. He could hear Harry beginning to undress. His mouth began to water at the prospect of unbridled passion that he alone seemed capable of producing in Harry.

He heard Harry’s bare feet padding along the hardwood of the kitchen floor, coming to rest behind the chair in which he sat. He kept his eyes shut on purpose, forcing himself to rely solely on his hearing and his trust that Harry would take care of him in this. He steadied his breathing and allowed his spine to relax further into the slouch, the hard wood of the chair cool against his fevered skin.

Knowing what a kick Harry got out of watching him, Severus made an exaggerated show of bringing a thumb to his mouth, sticking his tongue out to meet the appendage. After wetting the digit Severus brought it down to the tip of his tumescent prick, rubbing his thumb in an achingly slow circle around the eye and releasing a low, sensual sigh, arching up off the chair as though the mere contact of his thumb had caused him pain.

“Yes, that’s it,” he heard Harry whisper in a heavy voice from behind him. Severus looked up through heavy lidded eyes to see Harry standing over him, staring at him like a wolf looking at raw meat.

“Touch yourself,” Harry commanded softly. Severus closed his eyes once more and began to lightly stoke himself, every so often swiping the tip of his forefinger across his slit before pausing to taste himself. He knew that drove Harry wild and smirked openly when he heard his lover stifle a moan.

Severus could feel the heat emanating from Harry’s body, it pulsed along his scalp, giving him goosebumps and making his skin prickle. Even as he began to replay images from their last sexual encounter in his mind, Severus felt Harry collect the loose tendrils of his hair, grasping it painfully tight and tugging down, trapping him in his current reclined position on the wooden chair. There he was, hard as ice with his legs spread and ass hanging off the seat of the chair, the cool air in the kitchen ghosting across the heated surface of his perineum and along his exposed cleft.

“Accio beads.”

Severus’ sphincter clenched involuntarily when he heard Harry’s request, uttered casually but with a hint of severity. He relaxed and even smiled a little when he heard the slap of one of the beads on the string hit Harry’s palm. Severus sank down into the chair incrementally, widening his legs and relaxing his pucker, eager to have Harry insert one of his favorite toys. Yet, it did not come. Instead he felt his cock being engulfed by the hot, moist mouth of his dom.

“Harry,” Severus moaned, both at the feel of Harry’s mouth and in frustration, realizing that he could not lift his head to watch. He could have screamed in ecstasy but for his lover’s decidedly evil use of magic to keep him pinned by his hair. “Of all the… Harry, please!” Severus keened as Harry slurped upward and off his cock, only to begin laving his hairless balls and perineum.

Using one warm, slightly damp and calloused hand to continue to expertly squeeze and tug Severus’ cock, Harry trailed his tongue lower to slither in and around that supple, crinkled orifice hidden between Severus smooth buttocks. He smiled broadly as the heat from inside his lover danced across the stiff tip of his tongue each time it darted inside the hot passage, his sub’s opening rippling against his tongue as though trying to give the muscle a massage.

After what seemed like only second to Severus but was in fact far longer, Harry ceased his enthusiastic rim job, lifting his head quickly to avoid being caught in the vice grip Severus attempted with his thighs in a vain attempt to keep Harry’s face and tongue in place.

“Shhh…” Harry crooned, rising up into a crouch, pushing Severus’ knees up and back. “Don’t worry.”

Severus gave a miserable groan, unable to focus on anything but the sweaty, sculpted, naked form of the man between his legs. “My beads, please,” he groaned, wincing in pain as he struggled against the restraint of his hair.

“Later,” Harry responded, before placing a palm flush against Severus’ cleft, casting a silent lubrication spell to slick his sub’s passage.

Severus felt Harry enter him abruptly, yanking his hips up off the seat a bit for better access. Harry hooked an arm underneath each of his knees, then began thrusting into him deeply and rapidly, giving Severus no opportunity to reciprocate the rhythm. He held Severus in place rigidly, using him like some living, breathing doll with which to masturbate.

It was everything Severus wanted and more, despite the highly uncomfortably position. His hair felt like it was being ripped out from the roots and each time Harry pounded into him his ass was rammed into the edge of the wooden chair. He gave a passing thought as to the brilliantly colored welt he’d have come the next day, but that thought was chased off quickly as Harry finally came into direct contact with his g-spot, rolling those flexible hips and using those tight abs to home in on the walnut-sized spot like a heat-seeking missile.

“Come for me. Come for me. Please, come for me, babe,” Harry panted in time with his thrusts, his hands gripping the back of Severus’ thighs hard enough to bruise, his hips sliding against the sweat slickened insides of his sub’s thighs.

Severus, who had been holding the base of his own cock and rubbing the tip of his prick against Harry’s sweaty abs from time to time, began to fist himself, keening long and low at the combination of prostate stimulation and his own masturbation. Severus’ entire body seized up and his muscles vibrated rigidly as his orgasm rushed forward. He pumped his fist furiously along the length of his cock while involuntarily holding his breath, afraid to allow anything as frivolous as a breath to compromise the magnificent feeling of teetering just on the edge of ecstasy. Just as the oxygen deprivation became critical Severus erupted like a geyser, shooting high into the air, gravity raining the hot, sticky fluid back down on Harry’s shoulder and Severus’ own belly and chest.

Without ever faltering in his rhythm, Harry leaned in and flicked his tongue across a semen-spattered nipple, licking across the hypersensitive nub as though sampling icing on a cupcake.

“So fucking beautiful,” Harry murmured, almost as if to himself, followed by a grunting shout as his own orgasm came rushing forth. Without warning he pushed roughly into Severus, his thighs and pelvis connecting flush to his lover’s sweaty backside, his cock pulsing rhythmically as his seed was deposited in that still unbelievably snug canal.

Panting as if he had just chased down a centaur, with his thigh muscles screaming for relief from their squatted position, Harry eased out of that welcoming passage, his eyes full of desire and warmth as he surveyed the sated man beneath him. Severus let out a deep breath and began lowering his legs only to have Harry slap him on the ass.

“Unh, unh,” Harry grunted quickly, his voice deep and rough. “Keep them up.”

Severus held his breath once more, sensing where Harry was headed. He clenched his rectum tightly, not wanting a drop of his lover’s seed to escape. “Yes,” Severus hissed, his cheeks flushed with color and his lips slightly parted.

Harry stood, rubbing his hand up and down his own slightly deflated member. Letting out a satisfied sigh, he picked up the pearly white string of beads, each ball roughly an inch and a third in diameter.

“You’ll wear these for me,” Harry said softly, lubing each individual bead, before slowly slipping first one and then another past the tight ring of Severus’ opening.

Severus wiggled a bit as each cool, pearly bead glided smoothly over his g-spot before settling along his passage, causing him to moan like a wanton whore.

“If you’re good—and I mean very good— we can… play… later,” Harry added, cocking an eyebrow and giving Severus a knowing look.

Severus closed his eyes briefly and licked his lips in anticipation. Oh gods, did he ever want to play. They had a dominate/submissive relationship, but they did not often engage in the sort of rough play Severus loved and at which Harry was steadily growing more skillful. Their small collection of restraints, whips, and other miscellaneous toys were all still sporting the sheen of newness having been used so infrequently. While he wished that they dabbled more often, Severus had to admit that the infrequency led to greater anticipation and enjoyment when they did.

The older wizard vowed to himself then and there that he would behave like a fucking Muggle boy scout if it would lead to him bound, marred, and being simultaneously fucked and choked to the edge of reason. Just a few months after breeding they had both been rather happily surprised that Harry had a previously undiscovered fetish for breathplay, an activity in which Severus was more than keen to oblige his dom.

By the time Harry had three of the five beads inside Severus was once again hard as steel and begging for release.

“I think you’ve been sated from one end enough, for now,” Harry said with a slight chuckle, as he rose from his kneeling position. “Now I want you to be well fed with food, my love.”

Severus lowered his legs slowly to the floor, squirming a bit to adjust to the invasion of beads, repeating Harry’s latest endearment in his mind. My love. Harry had never called him ‘my love’. His hair now released from its prior binds, Severus slid forward off the chair and onto his knees before Harry. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the juncture where Harry’s thigh met his groin before speaking.

“Say it. Don’t…don’t make me beg… please,” he said into the warm, tender skin of Harry’s upper groin.

Harry stroked the damp strands of’ hair that were nearly pasted to his lover’s scalp, his heart swelling with sadness and immeasurable love at once. He too dropped to his knees so that he could be eye level with Severus, grabbing the older man’s bowed head by the chin and forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I would say it every hour of every day, if only you would believe it,” Harry breathed, leaning forward to nip at Severus’ parted lips.

“All this time I have been trying to show you how much I want, need and desire you. How much happiness and comfort you bring to my life. All this time… wishing for you to understand just how unbearably deep my ties to you run. Could it be so simple?” Harry asked, looking deep into Severus’ eyes, searching for the answer that had been so elusive.

“Nothing about us is simple, Harry,” Severus replied, his voice cracking from strain and emotion. “But this,” he added, bringing Harry’s hand to rest above his heart.

“Then let me say it plain to you this night, my love. Believe me when I say I love you… everything about you. From the skin covering your bones to the blood coursing through your veins. I love you. Every scar, every mole, every wrinkle and crease. You are perfectly imperfect, magnificently flawed, a beautiful contradiction. You…are mine.”

A rogue, traitorous tear snaked along the outer corner of Severus’ right eye before streaking down his cheek, only to be silently swept away by Harry’s calloused thumb.

Harry could see Severus’ throat working to stifle emotion. Knowing how unfamiliar and difficult it was for his lover to engage his own voice in such situations, Harry rescued him by pressing their mouths together in a moist, firm kiss, their arms wrapped around one another’s waists as the heat from their bodies warmed the air around them.

Breaking their kiss, Harry motioned for Severus to stand. As he did so, Severus felt the remaining dangling beads slap against his scrotum.

“I especially love you with a tail,” Harry said with a smirk, which caused Severus to grin wickedly.

After washing his hands at the sink, Harry made to begin dishing up food for them to eat, only to have Severus block his movements.

“Let me,” his sub said softly, gently pushing Harry away from the stove. “I’ll… I want to serve you. Please,” he added, trailing a finger across Harry’s puffy and red bottom lip and looking his chosen dom dead in the eye, hoping that his words were interpreted with all the meaning that he desired. He could not bring himself to speak words of love, no matter how strongly the feeling resided inside him. He loved Harry more than he could ever remember loving anyone. Still, the words threatened to scar his throat and carve out his black heart with each passing moment as he stood there with his heart floating on a wish.

“I know,” Harry responded before walking over to the table and sitting down naked at the kitchen table.

Severus let out a barely audible sigh of relief. Harry had understood all that he could not say. So with a satisfied smile Severus turned to begin serving up the meal, swaying his ass ever so often to be sure the tail of the beads dangled tantalizingly.

Just as he set two full plates down on the table he jerked in surprise as the beads began to heat up and vibrate. Barely containing his moans, he steadied himself by placing his hands on top of the table before leveling an almost begging look at Harry, who wore the cockiest grin Severus had ever seen on his lover.

“Harry,” Severus ground out, shutting his eyes tightly as one bead in particular made nice with his prostate. “I cannot sit if the beads are vibrating.”

Harry just yanked Severus down to his knees next to his chair before stabbing a glazed carrot with his fork and bringing it down to Severus’ mouth.

“I know. Open.”

Severus complied, opening his mouth to receive the perfectly roasted carrot from Harry’s fork. A tiny whimper escaped him even as he chewed as the menacing little bead danced against his pleasure spot.

“And Sev,” he added, a cut of pork roast poised at Severus’ mouth, “If you cum, I won’t let you wear the mask.”

Merlin, have mercy!

That same night, in a cheap little hourly-rate room above a seedy pub in Knockturn Alley, Oliver Wood rolled his large, sweaty body off that of a petite little redhead, who was snoring softly atop the dingy bed sheets with her hair fanned out around her head like flames. After sliding into his boxers, trousers and shirt he made a sweep of the room, carefully to collecting all evidence that he had ever been there. Once done, he made his way to the bathroom to relieve his full bladder. Before flushing he pulled a small vial of clear liquid from his trouser pocket. He uncorked it and poured the remaining liquid into the toilet, watching it combine with his urine as the lot whooshed away down the drain. Satisfied that the most damning piece of evidence was gone and confident that the female lying in the hotel bed would never suspect that she had been dosed with truth serum, Oliver exited the bathroom and crept silently out of the hotel room, leaving the woman to sleep away whatever time remained on the reservation.

Out on the dimly lit cobblestone streets, Oliver smiled to himself and let out a menacing chuckle. Who knew Ginny Weasley liked to talk so much?

His mind filled with previously unknown information and a plan already beginning to form, the dashing young ex-Quidditch star strolled casually down the darkened street, whistling a chipper little tune, before disappearing into the night.

A/N: Okay, so we are edging ever closer to the end of this little tale. Therefore, I request (if I may be so bold) that those of you who have come this far, please leave a review--even a small, unsigned one letting me know your thoughts as we head into what I am playfully calling the "final act" of this Snarry romance/drama. Believe it or not the end is not set in stone, or even written for that matter, so your review could mean more than you know! THANKS, Rettavex