Power\'s Pendulum

“I see you found him, Severus, well done,” said Dumbledore, though he did not look pleased with Harry at all.

“Yes, Headmaster. He was in the cave.” Dumbledore nodded; he knew Sirius had hidden in the cave two years ago, when Harry was in the Triwizard Tournament.

“Mr. Potter! What were you thinking? You could have been seriously injured!” Professor McGonagall said sharply. “Twenty points from Gryffindor and you will have detention with Professor Snape,” she said with a sour look. “I’m quite sure he will have plenty to say about your foolish and reckless behaviour.” Snape couldn’t be sure, but it looked for just a fraction of a second as if she had smirked at him.

“In addition, Harry, you will miss the next Hogsmeade weekend as a result of your lack of judgement, I’m afraid,” said Dumbledore. “I expect you in particular to kindly keep in mind there is a reason that we have rules at this school?” Harry nodded, crestfallen. “Now, it’s a bit chilly out here, I suggest that we make our way inside.” He turned and held the door for Professor McGonagall; Snape and Harry followed them in quickly.

Harry was about to head for the common room when Professor McGonagall called after him.

“I believe I gave you detention, Mr. Potter?” she said sternly, pointing toward Snape, who looked rather disgruntled. He nodded and turned around, glumly following the older wizard down the steps toward the dungeon.

They walked down the stairs in silence to Snape’s office, their breath leaving little puffs behind them. Snape pulled out his wand and opened the door, lit the lamps with a wave and held the door for Harry, then slammed it shut behind them. He pointed his wand at the grate and started up a fire, then turned on his heel to face Harry, who stood by the door nervously.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, absently scratching his jath tth the wood shaft. Harry nodded miserably. He nodded and waved his wand toward the desk, there was a popping sound and a tray appeared with sandwiches, along with two goblets and a pitcher of pumpkin juice; he replaced his wand in his robes with a snort. “Well, go on then, pull up a chair; we’re going to have that little chat I promised you,” he hissed.

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, dragging the chair he used in Occlumency over to the edge of the desk and sat wearily as Snape rou round to his own chair. Snape poured and they started on the sandwiches without a word. Finally Snape leaned back in his chair with a sigh and Harry knew it was time.

“What possessed you to go off by yourself like that, Potter? Merlin’s beard, boy! You once again have proven that you feel the rules do not apply to you,” he said shortly. “In addition to the detention you were given by Professor McGonagall tonight, I expect you to be scrubbing out cauldrons in my classroom every night this coming week.” Harry stared at him in shock.

“But…sir! I thought you would understand; I just wanted to be alone to think!”

“Understand? I understand that you are the most reckless, foolish and oblivious boy I have ever had the misfortune to try and teach anything!” he shouted. “Do you have any idea what I thought when you weren’t with them? Do you?” Snape dropped his hands to the wooden surface and leaned forward over his desk.

“No, sir,” he mumbled.

“Of course you didn’t, because you don’t THINK! You are going to be the death of me!” That was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“SHUT UP!” screamed Harry, he jumped to his feet and slammed his fists on the desk; a bottle of ink crashed to the floor. “You shut up! I thought you of all people would understand that I needed some time to think, to feel, to just BE! Instead, you’re yelling at me too! No one understands what I have to deal with! My parents were murdered to get to me; Cedric died because of me; SIRIUS died because of me and you’re telling me now it’s going to be my fault if YOU die too! I don’t want any of this! I hate this! You were the only one who treated me like a person; you were the only one left I thought could understand! I tried to take care of you when they beat you to a pulp and this is what I get in return?” He was shaking with rage now, green eyes flashing angrily at Snape. “I HATE YOU!”

“Are you quite finished with your adolescent tantrum, Potter?” Snape sneered. “Yes, I do understand that this is not what you want frofe, fe, but it is what you have to deal with. Try applying a little of that vaunted Gryffindor courage and deal with it like an adult instead of whinging about how unfair it all is for poor little orphan Potter, light of the wizarding world!” he hissed spitefully. “worlworld does not revolve around YOU!” he shouted, standing to his full height and snatching up a handful of Harry’s robes when he tried to back away.

“I have spent the last fifteen years of my life making sure that your pathetic little hide stayed in one piece! I have lied, been tortured and suspected, cheated death, Merlin only knows how many times to prevent you from doing irreparable harm to yourself and this is the thanks I get? You have a lot of nerve to say anything to me, Potter!” Snape had pulled Harry around the desk, nearly yanking him completely from the fl spi spittle flying from his lips, his free hand clenched over his head. Harry stared at him in terror, trying to balance on his toes.

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you! Don’t you see that, you foolish boy?” Snape realised what he was doing and let Harry go abruptly, nearly dropping him to the floor and backed away from him. He remembered his father standing over him just like that, screaming and hitting him again and again until he just hung there limply, waiting for him to wear himself out. He felt ill, horrified he had become the echo of a man he had despised his entire life.

“You have a funny way of showing people you care about them, Severus,” Harry said quietly, slumping back into his chair. Snape leaned back against a shelf full of potion ingredients and tried to pull himself together.

“I…” Snape didn’t know what to say. He shuddered at the thought of how close he had been to actually hitting Harry. He crossed slowly back to his chair, watching Harry, afraid he would bolt, afraid he would stay. “I suppose so,” Snape muttered.

“So, now what do we do?” Harry asked, staring at the toe of his trainer e sce scuffed it against the floor.

“I don’t know,” Snape said quietly, running a shaking hand through his hair. “What do you want to do now?”

“I think I want to go back to the tower and tell Ron and Hermione that I’m all right,” he replied. Harry looked at Severus for a minute, shaking, pale and unwilling to meet his eyes. “Then I want to get my cloak and come play chess.” Snape jerked his head up and stared at Harry.

“Why?”

“Because…bee I e I don’t hate you.” There was more he wanted to say, but this didn’t seem the time or the place. Harry simply had to trust that they would work it all out in time and Severus would let him come.

“Go then.” Snape got to his feet and looked at Harry with an unreadable expression. “I’ll expect you shortly,” he said and walked to the door, flung it open and disappeared, leaving Harry sitting in his chair in the empty room.

Harry got up slowly, amazed at his luck, then ran all the way to the Fat Lady. He quickly said the password and stepped through the opening, searching the room for his friends.

“Harry! Where have you been?” Hermione nearly shouted, not unlike Mrs. Weasley. He grinned at her aon, on, who was sitting in another chair morosely.

“Detention with Snape, got it all week.”

“You could look a little less pleased about that,” Ron muttered under his breath, but grinned all the same.

“We were worried sick. Are you all right?” Hermione said, sounding both concerned and exasperated at the same time.

“I’m fine; I just needed to think and spend a little time by myself.” He shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. “Sorry.” Hermione shook her head, but gestured to a chair all the same. “I know I’ve been distant; I just had a lot on my mind. I, er, wasn’t planning to stay up too long though,” he said with a blush. I really have to work on that, he thought.

“Right,” said Ron with an odd expression, as though he was trying to be disgusted and amused at the same time. “I guess we should go check the corridors for stragglers in a few minutes anyway; it’s almost curfew.”

“I think I’m going to bed then; all that scrubbing has worn me out.” He winked and yawned, then slipped upstairs to their room, changed into his pyjamas and got his cloak, closing the curtains as though he were in bed. He slipped down the stairs to the portrait hole and it opened from the outside. \"Thanks, I owe you two,” he muttered as he passed them and practically skipped to the dungeons.

Snape had returned to his rooms and set up the chessboard, mind racing. He paced in front of his fire, waiting for Harry’s knock, debating what to say. He almost felt he should apologise, but then, he didn’t apologise for anything, nor did he want to coddle the boy. Potter had, in fact, deserved the tongue lashing, though the pulling him off the floor was a bit beyond proper. He decided to rely on his instincts and Harry’s mood to determine what would happen next as he heard a soft knock at the door.

Snape opened his door and stood aside, smirking as Harry intentionally brushed against him as he entered the room and closed the door. He turned as Harry slipped his cloak off, wearing his pyjamas and a grin.

“I’m staying over.” It wasn’t a request. Snape knew he was right in deciding not to apologise after all.

“And if I say no?” he asked with a scowl; two could play this game and he was much better at it.

“You won’t. So, do you want to play chess, or go to bed?” Harry asked with a wicked little grin.

“Potter, are you mad?” This wasn’t what he expected at all. Their time spent together since Christmas had been decidedly non-erotic; he had been both relieved and disappointed by that turn of events. It appeared that Harry was not finished exploring his sexuality after all.

“Harry. I like it when you call me Harry.” He cocked his head and looked at Snape appraisingly. “I could very well be mad; Ron certainly thinks so,” he murmured, stepping into Severus and slipping his arms around his waist.

“Perhaps Mr. Weasley has a point. You should be chasing after your classmates, not your greasy Potions master,” a hint of a smile playing around his lips as he gripped Harry’s shoulders, one long finger tracing his neck.

“Snogging with Dean or Neville just doesn’t seem to have the same appeal. So can we skip the chess and get on with the two hundred buttons?” He looked up at Severus bashfully, breathing in that heady mixture of lavender, jasmine and Snape with a little shudder.

“If you insist, though there aren’t quite that many.”

“I insist,” Harry replied with mock seriousness, then reached up and pulled Severus down into a searing kiss. “You are going to help me a bit more with them this time, aren’t you?” he mumbled a little breathlessly. Snape laughed.

“I suppose so, given that I don’t usually unbutton them by hand myself.” He freed himself of Harry’s embrace and pulled his wand from a pocket somewhere in all that black fabric, murmured under his breath and his outer robes and waistcoat unbuttoned themselves. Snape drew them off slowly as Harry watched, his arousal evident. “There, I’ve helped,” he said, voice low and deliciously dangerous.

Harry undid the buttons on his shirt quickly, tugging it from his shoulders, then moved on the five that held up Snape’s trousers while Severus toed off his boots. He let his trousers fall to the floor and stepped out hem,hem, gesturing to the bed. Harry smiled and slinked across the room, leaving Severus to manage the socks himself. He slipped his glasses off and laid them on the side table, then flipped back the duvet and dove into the bed.

Snape shook his head but followed him, murmuring ‘Nox’ before climbing in himself and tugging the curtains closed. He wasn’t completely settled in the bed before he had a lapful of writhing teenager kissing him feverishly.

“Calm down, Harry, this isn’t a Quidditch match,” he said, his voice warm and smoky in the darkness. He wrapped his arms around the younger man and kissed him slowly and thoroughly before moving on to nibble at his neck.

“I’m sorry I was such a prat earlier,” Harry whispered, laying his head on Severus’ shoulder, shivering with each little nibble and caress. Snape reached up and toyed with Harry’s hair affectionately before kissing his way to his ear.

“Apology accepted,” he whispered. “You are overdressed, Potter,” punctuating this assessment with a nip at his earlobe. Harry shuddered his agreement and began to unbutton his shirt, but Snape pulled his hands away and did it himself, then pushed Harry gently off him to get to his pyjama bottoms.

Harry loved when Snape undressed him. To be the centre of his attention, at least this kind of attention was nothing short of mind blowing; it was almost reverent the way he touched him. He lay back as Severus’ hands slid up his thighs, teasing him before slipping under the waistband; Harry lifted his hips and Snape drew them down slowly, trailing his fingertips over quivering bare flesh with a chuckle. He reached out and pulled Harry into a sitting position and peeled his shirt off, flinging the garments off into the inky darkness.

Strong hands glided across his chest, pressing him onto his back; Severus’ hair hung around them as he was kissed; his body pressed him down, wiry and powerful. Harry groaned aspe cpe covered him, flesh on flesh; their cocks rubbing together as Snape moved against him slowly.

“What do you want, Harry?” Snape asked silkily, licking at his skin and blowing across it gently, leaving little wet trails over his neck that made him shiver with desire. “Tell me what you want and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“I…I…don’t know,” he muttered breathlessly. He couldn’t think, overwhelmed by touch and smell – the feel of Snape’s hair across his cheek, his hot breath, the slick, uneven trails of scars under his questing fingers. Severus began to tease one nipple with his tongue and teeth, pinching and pulling on the other until Harry gasped.

“So, you thought you would just come here and I would do your thinking for you?” Snape whispered, then bit his nipple hard, pulling on it until Harry cried out sharply. “If there is one thing you need to learn, it’s to think.” Snape pushed himself up and knelt beside him, casually knocking away the hands that reached for him.

“Tell me what you want, or I won’t touch you at all and send you back to the tower.” There was an edge to his voice - not anger, but calculation. Time to train the boy’s inner Slytherin, to identify his wants and seek them out. He was brave but passive, not a combination that would get him far in life. “Part of being a good lover is knowing what you want and being willing to ask for it,” he murmured.

“I want…” he trailed off, unsure if he was willing to ask for what he wanted, afraid he might get it, or worse, be refused and mocked. “I want to…I want…tobeontop,” he blurted out, sitting up. He could just see the older man outlined before him, could feel his eyes on him in the gloom. Snape chuckled throatily.

“Do you now? And why should I allow that?” He sounded amused, bringing a blush to Harry’s face in the darkness. The man was infuriating.

“You said I should ask for what I want,” he said, a little crossly, “That’s what I want.” He decided this was a test and reached out, catching a handful of Severus’ hair, drawing him closer. “I want to fuck you,” he hissed in his best Snape imitation.

“That’s better, Potter, much better,” Snape breathed across his lips, then kissed him deeply; Harry wound his fist in Severus’ hair tighter and pulled back, ending the kiss abruptly.

“Lay on your back,” he ordered, loosening his fingers. Shockingly, Snape complied, laying back in the bed, waiting. He straddled his chest and gripped Snape’s prick, working it slowly. “Don’t move,” he whispered, “or I’ll stop.” Severus groaned, but did not move, a sly smile on his face as he stared at Harry’s back.

Harry leaned forward, stretching out against Severus’ torso and licked the head of his cock, then blew across it gently, bringing a throaty gasp from him. Pleased with the reaction, he tongued him slowly, enjoying the way that Snape’s heart pounded under his balls. He pushed Severus’ thighs apart, hooking his hand under one leg and continued, sucking and flicking his tongue over him as his other hand worked faster along the shaft, nearly pushing his arse in Snape’s face.

Severus did not touch, though he wanted to badly; he had started this little game and was going to see it to its conclusion. Harry hadn’t said anything about teasing, just touching, so he blew gently across his opening, simply because he could. He nearly got himself bit when Harry’s whole body convulsed.

“Did I say you could do that?” Harry gasped. He could feel Severus laughing silently beneath him.

“You said ‘don’t move’, Potter; you didn’t say anything about breathing,” he murmured, his honeyed voice sending shivers of anticipation through the younger man. He blew again and Harry groaned, unconsciously pushing his hips back in pleasure.

“Damn sneaky Slytherin,” Harry muttered. Snape did it again.“Ind“Indeed,” Severus chortled softly; “There is a reason I am the Head of Slytherin. Do you want me to stop?” he asked, affecting an innocent tone.

“God no,” he hissed as he shivered again.

“Would you like me to show you something else?” Snape whispered silkily. Harry whimpered in response, as Severus wasn’t letting up with this delicious torture. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Harry’s breath caught in his throat; it was all he could do to simply gasp and nod. “May I touch you, now?” Severus asked quietly.

“Please,” Harry whimpered. Severus snaked his hands around Harry’s hips and rolled them both over onto their sides, ducked his head between Harry’s legs and began to suckle him. Harry writhed against him and found Sev’s prick jutting proudly in his face; he understood he was to return the favour. He mirrored Snape’s agonising attention, every touch intensified as he learned how Severus liked to be pleasured. They continued, master and apprentice until Severus finally drew his head back with a groan.

“Why’d you stop?” Harry panted.

“I was under the impression you wanted to fuck me, Potter,” he hissed, “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Harry closed his eyes and shuddered. To hear Snape say ‘fuck’ in that snarky tone, the one usually reserved for pointing out he was stupid and ignorant almost made him come on the spot. It didn’t make him feel stupid or ignorant; it made him feel something new, something akin to the night of the Solstice but deeper. It also made his prick achingly hard.

“You’re…you’re going to let me?” he asked in a whisper. He hadn’t actually expected Snape to agree to that.

“We won’t be making a habit of it, I assure you,” Snape murmured dryly, “but in the interests of encouraging you to think for yourself, I believe a little positive reinforcement is in order.” He kissed Harry’s thighs and rolled onto his back, stretching against the bed. Harry sat up slowly, still rather dazed. Severus was spread out before him; he could just see his pale form outlined against the dark green sheets on the bed.

“I think this would be easier for me if you turned over,” Harry said hesitantly.

“Yes, it probably would, but I won’t,” Snape drawled. “I want to watch you and I want you to see what you are capable of doing.” He also didn’t feel like giving instructions over his shoulder, best to stick with a known quantity. Being face down also had a certain way of bringing memories he didn’t particularly care for into foreforefront of his mind.

“Right. Er, I…” he trailed off, not sure where to begin. Snape reached out with one hand to draw Harry into his embrace, a little smile on his face. Harry turned himself around and settled against Snape’s chest. He wanted this, but there was a nagging suspicion in his mind that if he tried to rush things he would make a fool of himself. He hated to make a fool of himself and realised he wanted Severus to enjoy this, not endure it. He wanted Snape to understand how much he cared for him, how much he had changed everything in his life for good.

“It’s all right,” Severus murmured, kissing his forehead gently. “One step at a time.” Harry nodded and kissed him; that part he felt pretty confident about at any rate. The kissing proceeded nicely; Harry worked his way to Severus’ chest, licking and biting each nipple thoroughly; then he tried the navel thing. Given the groans and panting pouring from Snape’s lips, that went pretty well too. Harry was feeling much more confident and excited by the idea that he was actually going to shag Severus.

“Need some lubricant,” he panted. He was kneeling between Snape’s spread thighs, idly stroking the black hair that dusted them. “Er, maybe a little light too,” he added. Severus grunted and sat up. He rummaged around in his bedside cabinet and handed a small bottle to Harry, then summoned his wand from his clothing. A little murmur and a wave and a few small candles hovered in the air over their heads, lighting the bed but little more.

“Will that suffice?” he asked. Harry nodded and licked his lips. Snape lay his wand on the cabinet and resumed his position on the bed, with the addition of a pillow beneath his hips for his own comfort;had had been a very long time since he had willingly allowed anyone to top him. He was surprised at the way his stomach fluttered, but the lust burning in Harry’s eyes was rather soothing.

Snape watched with a great deal of interest as Harry slicked his fingers with the potion, pleased to see yoe young man had enough sense to warm it a little before attempting to apply it. Harry bit his lip in concentration and brushed his fingertips over Snape’s balls, then behind, finding what he was searching for with a happy smirk. Severus’ breath caught in his throat as Harry’s fingers brushed against him softly.

He explored slowly, delicately, watching Snape’s face and wishing he had his glasses on so he could see better. Severus reached out of the bed with a groan, picked up Harry’s glasses and placed them on his face gently with a wicked, suddenly much clearer grin.

“Come on then, don’t stop now,” he muttered, “It’s just getting interesting.” Harry didn’t know if he should be pleased or annoyed. How the bloody hell does he DO that? he thought with a small frown. He felt a different texture and brushed the tip of his finger against it and Snape’s entire body shuddered, his eyes closed tightly. He did it again and Snape gasped. He pulled back and tried it again, watching with a mix of awe and wonder as Severus whimpered and bit his lower lip, eyes shining in the candlelight. “NOW!” he ordered, dark eyes locked with Harry’s bright green ones.

Harry shook his head and smirked; this was too good to rush. He twisted his fingers experimentally and Snape shuddered again, panting heavily, head thrown back. He twisted them back, driving in sharper and harder until he heard the older man threaten to hex him between gasps if he didn’t hurry up. Severus sighed in his throat as Harry withdrew his hand and prepared himself, then rose on his knees.

Harry positioned himself and looked down at Snape laid out before him. The candlelight danced around them, he felt as if everything had come full circle in this moment. He leaned forward and took what was his.

Severus sighed as Harry slid into him, fighting the urge to close his eyes. While he could be a tender lover, he had never had one himself. Sex was something physical for him - power, pain, pleasure or a combination of the three, not this heady mix of sweetness and desire. Harry leaned over him, eyes wide with wonder and Severus could not help but love him. He arched his back and drew him deeper, gripping the younger man’s shoulders with a moan.

Harry gasped as he found himself buried in Severus, gazing up at him with those bottomless dark eyes. He was lost and found, safe and teetering on the edge of oblivion in the same moment. He could not look away, dare not look away as he rocked slowly, unsure of where he ended and the other man began. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered but this moment, this gift he had been given.

“Beautiful,” he gasped, “so beautiful, Severus.” Their bodies moved together, gasps and shudders and feverish touches, in tune with each other, driving toward madness. He moaned as Severus whispered to him, cried out for him, surrendered to him, calling his name as he came bucking and moaning; taking Harry with him, howling his name in return.

They clung to one another, as if the world would shatter if they separated. Severus gathered Harry’s shaking form to his chest; he had to touch him, to hold him, to express something of the storm of emotion that roared within him. Some wall inside him had broken; the place where he kept himself locked away was breached; twenty years of horrors and disappointment and longing began to crumble. He felt alive and aware, as though something had lifted from his soul.

Harry shifted against him,led led his glasses off and laid his head on Severus’ chest. He was different somehow, complete in some way he had never imagined. It wasn’t the sex, it was lying here in Severus’ rooms, in his arms; he felt safe…and loved. Severus risked everything for him, without complaint or self-pity and asked for nothing in return other than he live. No one had ever given him so much, not Sirius, certainly not the Dursley’s, not even Dumbledore.

“Severus?” he said quietly, laying a line of kisses across his chest. The older man stirred and stroked his hands along his back. “I…thank you,” he whispered. “You’ve…given me so much, I don’t really know how to thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” He settled his weight on his elbows and looked up at the older man’s face a little shyly. “I just want you to know how I feel and I can’t…”

“Shhh, Harry,” he said softly, “you need say nothing. I will always endeavour to be there, in whatever capacity required to ensure you remain whole.” He closed his eyes for a moment, as if searching for something. “I am bound to you, it would be difficult if you…were lost to me.” His eyes were wary, as though he had said too much, yet felt he had not said enough. He reached out and traced one long finger down the side of Harry’s face.

“Do I still have the detentions?” Harry asked with a smirk. Snape’s narrowed his eyes and shot him a familiar glare that warmed him to his toes.

“Yes, you insufferable brat,” he sneered; though his finger continued it’s gentle caresses along the side of his face. “If you could manage to apply as much care to your studies as you did to my person,” he muttered in a silky tone, cocking his eyebrow, “your marks would be much improved.” Harry laughed, eyes dancing; a small smile played across Severus’ face and the mood lightened considerably. “Harry, what ever am I going to do with you?” he asked.

“Keep me,” he answered with a grin. Severus smirked and tousled Harry’s hair.

They shifted apart; Snape muttered a Cleansing charm as Harry continued to look more than a little smug. Severus felt something poke him in the side as he rolled over toward his lover, he retrieved the slightly bent glasses and placed them on the bedside table. Harry snuggled close as he turned back to him, wrapping his arms around Severus’ wiry body with a great yawn. Snape tugged the covers up and rested his chin on Harry’s head, pressing a kiss to his temple before banishing the light. They drew one another close and found comfort in darkness and dreams in each others arms.