Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Deathsong Balladeer	By : TheLadyFeylene Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3018 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: Severus Snape and Harry Potter do not belong to me I'm just borrowing them. I'll give them back when I'm done, though I may keep Sev a tad bit longer...

WARNING: Slash. This story is slash. Slashy-ness abounds. Men having sex with other men. Student/teacher interactions. Please beware. Again I will warn you about the SLASH. And it's NC-17 slash. NC-17. You have been warned in big letters and small words!

Dedication: This one's for Moira...never would have done this pairing if not for you! I truly hope you enjoy it.

Okay, there's actually no torture in this one. Not physical torture anyway..

Dark Angel's Requiem
Severus Snape sat in his high backed chair before the fire, drumming his fingers idly on a padded armrest. It had been a rather long day, and he was enjoying a quiet night of relaxing. As much as he could either enjoy anything or relax. He leaned his head back, one hand resting in his lap, idly fidgeting with the tie of his dressing gown. His mind was drifting, but only to the events of the day. The second years had a b a botch of their sleeping potions, and had filled the classroom with rancid fumes.
A knock on his door snapped him out of his foul reverie, and his black eyes snapped to the slab of mahogany that separated his private chambers from the rest of the castle. Who in hell was interrupting him at this hour? Dumbledore, perhaps? That was the only friendly face Snape could think of...he let down the locking spells, rising out of his chair as he did so.
"Come in..." he said, warily. He reached for his wand, holding it at the ready. He hadn't lived as long as he had without being cautious. The door swung open, and Snape was startled to see Harry Potter standing there, in jeans and a red sweater. There was a determined yet fearful look on his face, a grim set to his chin and an odd glint in his eyes. Snape lowered his wand, a look of confused annoyance on his face.
"Potter. What are *you* doing here?" He snarled, sitting back down. The boy was probably the last person Snape wanted to see showing up in his private chambers late at night.
"Dumbledore sent me." Potter said, walking into the room. Again Snape noted the determination and the fear, as though the boy were dreading this but knew he had to endure it. Foolish Gryffindor. Snape fixed him with a fierce look, lips scowling and black eyes cold.
"I see." He drawled, not hiding his displeasure at the boy's intrusion. "And why?"

"Here." Potter thrust out a note, his hand shaking slightly. Snape raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior. He knew the boy didn't like him, probably hated him, but he never acted this way around him. Perhaps it was being sent into his private chambers...being forced into the lair of the beast, so to speak. Snape snatched the bit of paper from Harry's hand, still glaring. What was Dumbledore up to? Keeping his eyes on Potter, who was staring ahead resolutely, hands clasped behind his back, he unfolded the note.
Severus,
As you know, Harry has been trained in various charms, curses and counter curses, in preparation for his involvement in the war. But that is not enough. There is the chance that he will be captured. We must know he is strong enough to withstand anything he may be put through. He must be *made* strong. He cannot be broken or killed, if taken. He *must* survive. I trust you understand what I am asking you to do. Harry has been briefed, and has agreed to this. We all do what we must. I am sorry.
A. Dumbledore
Snape stared down at the note. The headmaster couldn't mean what he thought....his eyes flicked up to Harry, to his _expression...like a man who has accepted his own execution. How could Dumbledore expect him to do *that*? And to a mere boy...
//You've done far worse.// A small voice in his mind spoke up, and Snape shuddered. That had been different. That had been then. Things were different now. And he had *never* harmed children. He had tortured many a man and woman, but he had never raised a hand to a child. True, Harry was sixteen, but still practically a boy in Snape's eyes.
//And how old were you, when Lucius first put the collar round your neck? You couldn't have been much older than him, and you're far more skilleen Men Malfoy ever was.// That was true. Snape knew what the human body could and could not withstand, knew the subtle nuances of evoking pain and pleasure like few others. He could make it go much easier for Potter than it had ever been with him. Lucius had been an inept fool, fumbling about in the dark with only the barest hint of what he could do.
//He has agreed, and knows more then you did.// And Dumbledore had *asked*. Not told, asked. Snape could not refuse a request made by the man, it was impossible. A small pang of regret blossomed somewhere inside of Snape. The boy should not have to go through this....Snape couldn't stand the brat, true, but he did not want to hurt him. Certainly not like that.
"Sit." Snape commanded, indicating the only other chair in the room-a small, green armchair. Harry sat, rigidly, hands now clasped in his lap. He looked much like a hawk, ready to take flight at any moment. Snape rose, not bringing himself to look at the boy. Why? Why did he have to do this? He had vowed never to use the thing again. And now...now he had to. And not even on an enemy, one who deserved it!
//Make it easy for him. Make it for him what it could have been, should have been, for you. Teach him what it truly is, guide him with it. Allow him to savor it, rather then simply thrusting it upon him.// He had reached the cabinet in which the death collar was stored. He opened the drawer, undoing every spell that surrounded it, and pulled out the cold length of chain. He held it in his hands, running his thumb over each link. How many years had it been now, since he used it? Seventeen, eighteen? But he knew he hadn't forgotten anything.
He turned, eyes narrowing as he regarded Harry. Regardless of his hatred for the boy, he felt truly sorry for what he had to do to him. But....he understood that it had to be done. One could build up a resistance to the sensations the death collar caused. It was a slow process, but it could be done. And it was a wise move, preparing Harry for what he may be facing...
"I trust you know what this is?" Snape drawled, kneeling before Harry's chair. He held the collar out, displaying it across his palms. Harry's eyes flicked down to it, and he nodded shortly. Snape saw him swallow quickly before looking away, hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Snape sighed, and placed the collar in his lap. He could see problems cropping up already. Frowning, he took Harry's hands and uncurled them, pressing them so that they were resting flat on Harry's thighs.
"You will want to keep your hands there, just like that." Snape said. "Otherwise you will injure yourself."
"And that won't?" His voice was weak and wavering, but Snape still caught the sarcasm.
"The pain this causes leaves no mark." He explained. "Your fingernails, however, can do quite a bit of damage. I speak from experience, Mr. Potter, do not doubt me."
Harry's eyes were large behind his glasses, and much as he tried to hide it, Snape could tell he was terrified.
"I will not lie to you Mr. Potter." Snape went on, feeling oddly compelled to offer what little comfort he could. "This will be pain beyond anything you have ever experienced. It can be pleasurable....but you shall feel only pain. Do not look at me like that, Mr. Potter." Snape narrowed his eyes at the spiteful look the Potter boy flashed him. "This has nothing to do with my personal feelings for you. In fact, if it were up to me, I would not be doing this to you at all. Pleasure at the hand of a death collar is....indescribable. After it, nothing will feel the same. I doubt that Dumbledore desires you to become severely depraved, so you will not be feeling any of that. I do apologize. The pleasure can keep one's mind through the pain."
//You will have to offer him *something* you know. A person can't handle pure pain, even on so low a level. They go mad...//
"Ahem. There must be a balance." Snape went on, his hand still pressing Harry's down. He could feel them trying to clench beneath his palms, and inwardly smiled. Defiance was certainly an asset when put to the collar. "Unfettered pain will drive a man mad."
"But you said all I'd feel was pain..."
"Be quiet! Don't make this any more difficult for me then it already is. Believe me, I want to do this about as much as you want it done. To use a death collar is nearly as intoxicating as having it used. As I was saying...I will need to do something to filter it. I believe dosing you heavily with alcohol should do the trick."
"Should?" Harry gulped nervously, and again his hands tried to ball into fists.
"Yes. In theory it works. I have never tried it, and never wished to." His eyes darkened. Lucius had done well to counter the pain with pleasure...
"What....how did..." Harry struggled with his words, and Snape sighed. //Prepare him...lying is foolish, and will only hurt him more.//
"I was your age when I had my first...encounter." The word was spat out, and Snape curled his lip. "It was my lover who did it."
"Your...lover?"
"Yes. I suppose I was lucky, in a way. He oughtn't have been allowed one, he hadn't the faintest idea what he was doing. If he hadn't been such a sick fuck, I'd probably be dead right now."
Harry didn't respond, his gaze had dropped to his lap. There was no grim determination anymore. Snape said nothing, knowing he would have to come to grips with this on his own.
"He...while you...you mean you..." Harry looked up, his _expression half horrified half confused.
"I highly doubt we need to go into the exact mechanics of it, Mr. Potter. Yes, I enjoy the intimate company of men. Yes I was sexually stimulated while under the death collar. Yes, my partner enjoyed it. Is there anything else?" A part of him thought he ought to be going easier on the boy, but he couldn't bring himself to. Why offer him softness, when he was about to tear his mind apart?
"No." Harry looked down again, hunching in on himself. Snape sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. He patted Harry's hands awkwardly, not entirely comfortable with offering comfort.
"If there were another wat wot would be done." Snape said. "You should count yourself lucky, boy. My talent is rivaled only by one. I will not say it will be painless, quite the opposite. But I will not damage you beyond repair. And I will keep you from hurting yourself."
"Hurting myself?" Harry's eyes were now very bright. Dear lord, was he going to cry? Snape didn't think he could handle Potter crying. He could hardly handle Potter now!
"Yes. In the throes of...whatever, I attempted to claw the collar from my neck. I came quite close to bleeding to death. Again, my partner was a bit of an idiot. I still have the scars..." He pulled down the neck of his dressing gown, parting the collar and leaning forward for Harry to see the long, white scars that lined his throat. "That is why I will be keeping your hands here."
"Oh..." Potter was squinting at the scars, and one hand reached up to lightly touch them. Snape recoiled from the touch, jerking back and pulling himself out of reach of the curious hand. "I'm sorry..." Harry said, hand falling limply back to his lap.
"Humph. The fault is partially in me I am...reluctant to allow physical contact. Now, are you ready?"
Harry didn't answer. He swallowed hard, and his eyes seemed to be wavering. Oh lord...he was going to cry. Snape shuddered, hating the whole damned situation. He patted the boy's hands again, offhandedly.
"I understand this is difficult for you." Snape said. "It is no secret we don't like each other much. I am well aware you hate me. But I do not wish to do this to you. I would not wish this on anyone. I will make it go as easily as possible for you. Now...drink this." He summoned a bottle of brandy, and held it out to Harry. He frowned at this, leaning slightly away from it.
"You need it, Potter."
"I know..." He took the bottle gingerly by the neck. "I don't hate you."
"This is hardly the time, Potter. Please, just drink that!" He was going to lose his nerve soon. Nerve? What nerve? He had no nerve. He couldn't do this...
"Not yet..." Harry put the bottle down. "Tell me....tell me about it, please..."
"Potter, you don't want to hear it."
"Yes, I do!" Harry yelled. "If they get me, they won't be nice about it. They'll hurt me. And they won't get me drunk first, either."
"No." Snape said softly. "They won't." He knew all too well what they would do. Lucius Malfoy's tastes were shared by many a Death Eater, and Potter was a pretty young boy...
"Then do it like they would." Harry said softly. "If you don't, you're not really preparing me, are you?" The fear in his voice cut through Snape like a knife. Did the boy have any idea what he was asking? But it made sense. Suddenly, Snape HarrHarry differently. There were not many who would ask for the worst, knowing they may have to face it someday. The Gryffindor bravery...
"Fine." Snape snapped. "But remember, you asked for this." he tossed his head, shaking back his hair. He fixed Harry with a penetrating gaze, studying the boy's face. Sharp features, unruly black hair, green eyes, rather full lips, narrow face...all in all, attractive. A touch feminine, slim build. Not at all to Snape's tastes, but...
//This is wrong.// But it had to be done. And they both knew it. Sighing once more, Snape let one hand rest lightly on Harry's cheek. He felt the boy cringe slightly from the contact, and resisted the urge to reprimand him. Regardless of Potter's insistence not to go easy on him, Snape would try and make the experience something more than unpleasant. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Steeling himself-it was something he would never allow himself to enjoy-he leaned forwards, lips meeting Harry's very gently.
The Potter boy jerked back, gasping, but said nothing. The grim determination was back, though there was now a glint of anger in his eyes. Snape had little patience, and his hands slid behind Harry's head to hold him there. He *could* be far more unpleasant than this. Closing his eyes-he'd really rather not *see* who he was kissing in this instance-he pressed his lips against Harry's again, this time not pulling away at the boy's small noise of protest. He wrapped his fingers in the boy's hair, focusing on its softness and thickness.
//Wonderful way to break celibacy, Severus.//
Ignoring the voice in his mind, he slipped his tongue out to lightly run across Harry's lips, feeling them draw back from his touch. Sadly enough, it was Potter's reluctance that urged Snape on. He held his head more firmly, fingers sliding in to stroke his scalp lightly. His other hand still held Harry's, pressed into his lap. He abandoned that, his hand snaking up Harry's stomach and chest. He wondered at the boy's sexuality. Did he actually enjoy men, or was this simply to 'build up his tolerance'?
Harry was still holding himself rigidly, ignoring everything Snape was doing to him. So, that was the way he wanted to play? Snape grinned to himself...intimate knowledge of how the human body worked was an advantage in more then just torture...his hand went up to Harry's neck, fingers caressing and searching for a particular spot there. He took Harry's bottom lip between his own, sucking gently on it as he played his fingers over a sensitive spot on Harry's neck. This time the noise the boy made was not from protest. Snape replaced his lips with his teeth, running his tongue over it. Harry's lips were warm and moist and pliant....regardless of how he felt about Potter, he was finding himself aroused.
//Brilliant. Dumbledore is going to pay for this...//
Snape suddenly paused. Their current position was not ideal for what he had in mind. He pulled his lips from Harry's, frowning slightly.
"What?"
"Come. This would go easier on the bed."
"What?" Panic, pure and raw.
"The bed, Harry." Snape said, taking the boy's hand. "And this is in no way to make things more comfortable for you, this is to make it more comfortable for *me*."
Harry hesitated, trembling slightly. Snape suspected that the full realization of what he was about to do had hit him. Snape pulled him roughly to his feet, his hand tightening around Harry's to prevent him from bolting. Snape glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. He held the death collar in his hand, pressing Harry into a sitting position onto the bed. It was not a canopy bed. Snape did not like feeling closed in as he slept.
The Potions master took pause again, tapping his finger lightly to his chin. He didn't know exactly what he was going to do to Harry. A few questions would need answering.
"I will need some information before we resume, Mr. Potter. And you must answer me honestly."
"Yes." A small word, but containing as much emotion as Harry could shove into it. Defiance, fear, resignation...it seemed Potter had far more spine then Snape had given him credit for.
"Good. Are you a virgin?"
"What?" Shock. Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose in aggravation.
"It is a simple yes or no question, Mr. Potter. It is imperative I know whether or not you are a virgin." Most likely the answer was no....of course, it all depended. "No, wait. What is your preference?"
"My what?"
"Preference boy, your sexual preference! My God, you're as daft out of class as you are in it!"
"I'm not daft, and it's none of your business." Harry snapped. Snape enjoyed his fire. His willingness and desire to fight would serve him well.
"Yes, it is. It is now, at any rate. Now, what is your preference?"
"Um...." Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Both, I guess."
"You guess? Fine. Are you a virgin?"
"Yes."
Shit. That made things difficult. Snape sighed, sinking onto the bed next to Harry.
"Then I suggest you go and find a willing boy to take that virginity before you enter the fray. Otherwise you may find yourself in for one of the most painful experiences of your life."
Harry looked away, flushing. A small part of Snape left over from his Death Eater days entertained the perverse thought of taking Potter's virginity himself. There would be some sort of cosmic irony in it, finally getting his vengeance on James...But the majority of him wanted nothing to do with it. It would be petty and cruel, and unfair to the boy.
"Would..." Harry's voice was quiet, with no trace of defiance at all. It was very soft, and very scared. Snape wished Harry would just pick an emotion and stick with it.
"Speak up boy, I can hardly hear you!"
"Would you do it?"
Snape raised his eyebrow, his lip curling. What in God's name was the boy asking? It couldn't be what Snape thought....
"I will pretend you did not say that." Snape took the death collar up, preparing it.
"Look, I don't like you." Harry said, determined again.
"Nor I you. Are you quite finished?"
"No! I don't like you, but I need you. Dumbledore told me...he told me a lot. About those." A hand jerked in the direction of the collar. "And...and what they might do to me."
"Yes. Many a Death Eater has the taste for pretty young men." So, Dumbledore had not spared Harry any details. Good.
"I know." Harry lifted his head, throwing back his shoulders. "I'd rather...I'd rather do it this way, then like that."
"Potter, do shut up. Go and pester Weasley into it." Snape was getting quite agitated. Not that a part of him was not intrigued, but he was poily ily ignoring that.
"You know you want to..."
Snape couldn't help himself. His hand shot out and caught Harry sharply on the cheek.
"I assure you Potter, my tastes do not run in *that* direction. *I* do not slather over young boys. In all honesty, I find you far too young to even consider."
"But you kissed me."
"You asked. It was not for my own pleasure, rest assured."
"Well, now I'm asking you to do this. I already know you like other guys, and you've been....not nice, but...and I guess you're attractive...and you'd make it..." Harry scrunched his face up, obviously trying to get his point across.
//The boy is throwing himself at you! And wouldn't you rather his first touch be yours, then the likes of Malfoy?//
"I understand what you are attempting to communicate to me." Snape said briskly. "If this is truly how you wish to go about it, so be it. I would truly prefer you asked someone else, but since you are so insistent..."
"This is part of my...preparation, Professor. I need this. I...I have to know."
"Potter, if you call me Professor again, I shall send you immediately back to your dormitory."
"Then don't call me Potter."
"Fine, *Harry*." Snape curled his lips, glaring at the boy. Damn Dumbledore to a million fiery hells....
"Um...what should I call you?"
"I don't care. As long as it isn't Professor. Or my name. Either of them. Oh, for the love of....fine. In these circumstances and these circumstances alone you may refer to me as Severus. Iu evu ever call me by that name anywhere other then here and now, you will be severely punished."
Harry nodded. "How do you...um....I don't want you to use that." He pointed at the collar and Snape nodded. That was understandable. He put it on the bedside table, and turned back to Harry.
"You must relax." he said, reaching out to place a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're far too tense. If you insist upon doing this, then *I* insist we both attempt to enjoy it." He frowned thoughtfully. How in hell was he going to go about this? He had had few lovers since Lucius, and gentleness was not something that came naturally to him. He let his fingers roam over Harry's shoulder, kneading gently. He stroked the side of Harry's neck. He could feel the boy's heart fluttering under his fingertips. No matter how brave a face Potter put up, he was terrified.
"Remove your clothing and lie down." Snape said gruffly, pointing to the bed.
A look of horror crossed Harry's face, and Snape buried his face in his hand. He didn't say anything to reassure the boy, but waited for Harry to comply. He did so, nervously and slowly. He sat up, shakily, and pulled his sweater off, folding it neatly and placing it beside him on the bed. Snape lifted an eyebrow in grudging appreciation at the sight of Harry's bare torso. It was lean and smooth, lightly muscled with the faint outline of a sculpted stomach. The boy's shoulders and arms were the same, lightly toned and sculpted. Tapered waist, leading down to what was most likely slim flared hips and lean legs.
"When you are finished, lie facedown on the bed, please." Snape crossed his arms, lips pursed in a thin line. Harry gulped audibly, his hands going to the zipper of his jeans. Snape could see him shaking, and turned away from him, walking briskly over to a shelf of bottles on the wall. He could feel Harry's eyes on him as he searched for the vial he wanted.
//There are very few possibilities you will actually manage to make him enjoy this.// Snape told himself. He was well aware of that, but he would try. A part of him was taking perverse pleasure in knowing that he would be the one to take James Potter's son's virginity. But still, most of him was slightly horrified and a tad bit awed by it all.
"What's that?" Harry asked in a tiny voice, as Snape's hand closed around a small, blue bottle.
"Lotion." Snape said, warming the bottle in his hands. "I prefer to use it for this. Now please lie still, it makes things so much easier." Harry's eyes widened, glowing a brilliant green in the firelight. He let his eyes travel down Harry's now naked form, admiring the smooth line of pale back and curve of buttock. Potter was very slim, with an almost feminine form. More muscular then Snape himself, but not by much. Quidditch did not build muscles, it simply shaped them. The Potions master sat on the edge of the bed, squeezing a bit of the now warm lotion into his hands. Harry made a small whimpering noise, and buried his head in his crossed arms.
"Were you not listening when I told you to relax?" Snape rubbed his hands together, spreading the lotion evenly over his palms and fingers. It was warm and smelled faintly of lilac. Stretching his fingers out, he laid his hands gingerly on Harry's shoulders. The boy tensed beneath his hands, instinctively pulling away. Snape closed his fingers on the soft flesh, holding them firmly in place. "I am *attempting* to help you. Please lie still."
Turning to kneel next to the boy on the bed, Snape moved his palms in wide circular motions over Harry's back, the heels of his hands pressing firmly into his flesh. He kneaded his fingers into Harry's shoulders, coaxing the tense muscles into unknotting. He rolled his thumbs over the top of the boy's spine, fingers working deftly and methodically, finding all the right points to force Harry's body into relaxing. Long fingers danced lightly over the line of Harry's spine, prodding gently and with purpose. Every so often a soft sigh would escape the boy's lips, as Snape's fingers found a particularly sensitive spot. His hands moved down, slowly until he was gripping Harry's waist. The skin under his palms was now warm, both from the attention and the fire. Snape looked down at the flawless back beneath him, a small smile curving his lips. The boy was truly beautiful, he allowed himself to admit. So smooth and white and soft...back up the spine, heels rolling upwards in quick and precise motions. Harry moaned, shifting his weighder der Snape's hands. Back down his back, palms splayed flat over the satiny plains, pausing to rub his thumbs lightly over the small of Harry's back. He allowed his hands to travel down further, sliding over the tight curves of Harry's buttocks, massaging gently down to firm thighs. He worked the taut flesh under his hands, kneading it rapidly.
Leaning down, he allowed himself a bit of indulgence. //If you are going to do it, you *will* enjoy it. Forget that your lover is a sixteen year old boy. Forget the fact that he is the son of one of your worst enemies. Forget you can hardly stand him...he is a beautiful young man who is offering himself to you. You could do far worse then Harry Potter as a lover, especially after so many years of celibacy.// Snape presses his lips to the back of Harry's neck, his hands going still on his thigh. He closed his eyes as Harry arched his neck into his lips, letting his tongue slide out to stroke the warm flesh he found there. It tasted of salt and sweat, and held a pleasing aroma. Lilac and grass and that scent that could only be Harry.
Snape trailed his lips downry'ry's spine, tongue outlining each bump and curve and dip of the prominent bones. He savored the feel of them under his lips and teeth, sucking lightly on each ridge. How long had it been, since he was so intimate with another? Far too long. And when had it been like this? Hardly ever. Not with another man. He bit gently at the small of Harry's back, feeling him stretch and raise his back into the light caress of teeth and tongue.
Snape knew he should perhaps go slow, but he was finding it diffic The The taste of Harry's skin was driving him mad, going straight to his head like fine wine. He licked all over the boy's back, dragging his teeth over where his lips had been. He drew his tongue along the line of his shoulders, tracing those bones with lips and teeth. He felt Harry shudder and twitch beneath him, lips curving at every sigh and whimper. He allowed his hand to trail along the swell of Harry's hip, fingers sliding into the hollow there. He felt the young Gryffindor's hips buck at that contact, and he slid his hand down further, hand wrapping firmly around Harry's prominent erection.
Standing, Snape shed his dressing gown. He wore nothing beneath it, and shivered slightly in the cool air of his rooms. He shook back his hair, raking his fingers through it. Harry was watching him, eyes heavy lidded, and little trace of his fear and defiance anywhere in them. He followed Harry's eyes up and down his own body, taking in the lean chest and waist and slender hips. Snape stretched himself out over Harry, simply resting his weight on the boy's back and hips.
//This is wrong, and you know it is. But it is necessary. There is pleasure in sin. Or perhaps it is that there is sin in pleasure. Regardless, you know you will feel guilty for this in the morning.// It didn't matter that the boy had asked for it. Practically begged, and then taunted. *He* should have more self control.
//This is not a matter of self control! You do not want this, but it must be done. It is simply another form of preparing him for what he may be put through. And be honest with yourself...if it delays placing the collar around his neck for one more night, you're happy to do it.//
Resting his head on Harry's shoulder blades, Snape closed his eyes, wishing this was all. But he felt stirring beneath him, the boy was urging him onwards. Taking a deep breath, the older man lifted himself up, bracing himself with his arms. Harry twisted his body, propping himself up and looking over his shoulder at Snape.
"No." Snape said softly, laying a hand on Harry's back and pressing him back down onto the bed. It couldn't be like that...but Harry didn't move. In a quick-if clumsy-movement, Harry sat up, his shoulder knocking into Snape's arm as he did so. The Potions master had to catch himself hurriedly, lest he fall. And then Harry was kissing him, inexpertly and forcefully. It was a clumsy kiss, but Snape allowed it, sitting back and placing his hands on Harry's shoulders.
"Enough." Snape muttered, pulling away. "No wonder you're a virgin. Relax your lips boy, you can't even kiss correctly."
Harry narrowed his eyes, but saw that Snape's lips were quirked upwards in as close to a smile as the man ever gave. Upon seeing that, he relaxed again, and parted his lips slightly.

"Good. You are not attempting to devour your partner. Follow my lead." Snape brushed his lips against Harry's, a soft sliding of lips on lips, before capturing Harry's bottom lip and sucking gently. He forced himself to be tender, to be gentle. He ran his tongue lightly over the warm, parted lips, before sliding it between them. Harry's tongue met his own, battering against it hectically. Snape stroked his tongue along the boy's, mentally smiling as his inexperienced partner matched his rhythm. He deepened the kiss, allowing a small sigh of appreciation. It was polite to let your partner know when they had pleased you, and Harry had begun caressing his lips with his tongue, mimicking what Snape had first done to him.
"Very good." Snape said, moving his lips down to suck at the tender skin of Harry's neck and throat. He felt the boy shudder under his ministrations, and bit lightly at the warm hollow of his throat. His tongue snaked out to lathe the skin there, pressing to feel the flutter of a heartbeat. Suddenly, Snape tensed. One of Harry's hands was moving along his thigh, the other was resting on his chest. The boy had yet to take an active role in their coupling, and Snape decided to simply allow him to do what he would. He resumed his attention on Harry's neck, closing his eyes as he nuzzled and nipped.
Harry's hand wandered higher, cautiously and curiously. It burned across Snape's flesh, and he could see its path in his mind. Fingers stroking and petting awkwardly, reaching for his hip, then elsewhere....He gasped, body tensing as Harry touched him very hesitantly, a bare brushing of fingers over hot, tortured flesh. He stilled his lips and teeth, hands gripping Harry's shoulders as he fought back a groan.
"Is that...okay?" Harry asked, shivering.
"That is fine." Snape gasped out. The boy's innocence was truly refreshing. Harry's hand returned, lightly grasping Snape's hardness. He closed his eyes, not able to think of anything other then the timid touch that consumed his miIt wIt was different from anything else he had ever felt. He had never been with a virgin. In truth, he had had few lovers other then Lucius. But now was not the time for those thoughts. Now there was only Harry's hand, stroking lightly. Snape buried his face in Harry's chest, gasping as the boy's fingers found a rather sensitive spot. Though he was rather rough and uncertain, Snape knew if Harry kept up this little session would be over before it had begun.
"That is...enough..." Snape grabbed Harry's wrist, to still his hand. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow and his blood to cool. He rubbed Harry's wrist lightly, pulling his hand up and away. He lifted his head, for the first time his eyes meeting full on those of his young partner. Harry's eyes were clouded with lust, but still slightly confused. Snape didn't blame him. How would he have reacted, at sixteen, being told he was most likely the only hope for millions of people, and there was a large chance he would be captured and tortured, and to prepare for that he would have to get used to being put through unimaginable pain by an ex-Death Eater who was known to hate him. He doubted he would have handled it very well.
"There now." Snape pressed his lips to Harry's palm, before kissing him softly on the lips. The moment of truth could only be put off for so long, and the physical mechanics of sex was something Snhad had le ile interest in. But he took some pleasure out of it. The most pleasure he could take out of anything. He stroked his tongue along Harry's lips, feeling them tremble. "Lie back down, Harry, and remained relaxed."
Harry nodded, slowly lowering himself onto the bed. He was glistening now, his body bathed in a very fine sheen of sweat. He looked highly desirable, exposed and aroused. Snape licked his lips, more out of some odd form of nervousness then anything else. He was still regretting this, but pushed those thoughts aside. He focused on the sinuous line of Harry's back, the lithe curve of buttock and thigh. He ran his hand lightly along that line, fingers grazing the moist flesh. He rested his hand on the small of Harry's back, massaging gently.
Pursing his lips, Snape took up the vial of lotion once more, rubbing it into his hands. He straddled Harry's thighs, massaging his lower back and buttocks, kneading the taut flesh de. He. He could feel Harry tense beneath him, in an almost rhythmic manner. He supposed he ought to offer some reassurance, but he could not bring himself to. What could he tell him, other then the truth.
"Keep your muscles loose, or it will hurt more then it should." He said, thumbs sliding down to part the cleft of Harry's buttocks, stroking gently. He felt the boy quiver under his touch, and he could only assume it was from pleasure. His lips pressed into a thin line, Snape eased his index finger into him, feeling the muscles tensing around it as Harry let out a small grunt. "Relax!" He snapped, and was immediately aware of the exact opposite reaction.
"Harry, if you refuse to listen, it is your own fault." Snape continued to massage as he waited for the boy to relax somewhat. It took a while, but slowly the tension in his muscles drained, and Snape slid a second well lotion finger inside. Harry tensed, but immediately relaxed with a small whimper.
//Dear God.//
Even now, with just his two fingers embedded in Harry'sht vht virginity, it was...amazing. He could feel the muscles tensing and flexing around his knuckles, and could only imagine what it would feel to have his entire length sheathed in that narrow canal. He bent his fingers, very slightly, and was rewarded with a sigh and a shudder. He brushed his knuckle deliberately against a sensitive spot, and a moan escaped Harry's lips.
"It *will* feel good." Snape assured him, withdrawing his fingers. He reapplied a good dollop of lotion to his hands, smoothing it onto his length. He rubbed a bit more onto Harry, using it liberally. He knew that at this point it was mainly a diversionary tactic. Rolling his shoulders to force the tension out of his own body, he stretched his legs out and braced his arms, holding himself above Harry. "It will hurt at first. This is why you must remain relaxed. I shall go slowly."
Harry just nodded, burying his head in his arms. Snape caressed himself, taking his length in hand to prepare for entry. He gritted his teeth, pressing resolvedly forwards. He felt Harry unconsciously straining away, and took his hip in hand, holding him firmly. He pushed forward, feeling himself begin to enter....
//My. Lord.//
He nearly forgot his resolve to go slowly. Tensing his muscles, he had to struggle not to thrust full force into Harry. Already he was tightening, the ring of muscles squeezing Snape forcefully. And the squirming wasn't helping any.
"Remain still." Snape hissed, grasping at the fur coverlet. Perhaps sex hadn't lost all meaning after all. Or perhaps he had simply been going about it the wrong way. Harry lay still, and Snape pushed in further, trying to block out the whimpering cry that met his penetration. He continued to grip Harry's hip, forcing him not to move. It was easier that way. Taking a deep breath, he slid himself deeper, sucking in a deep breath as he buried himself halfway into Harry's tight warmth. It wasn't what it could have been for another man, but it was good. Closing his eyes, Snape pushed himself in all the way, Harry crying out and bucking beneath him.
"It is done." Snape sighed, breathing hard. He took his hand from Harry's hip, placing it on his back. The boy was trembling,. From pain, most likely. Snape remembered what it had felt like to him. And Lucius Malfoy had thought of nothing but his own pleasure, ripping into young Snape with a savage force...
//Don't think of that. If you must occupy your mind, at least think of your lover. Hah. My lover....Harry Potter....irony? A twisted sort, I suppose. The world truly has gone to hell....//
Snape moved gently, rocking his hips slightly. It was pleasure as much as he had felt in years. But he knew it was fleeting and meaningless. Harry cried out at the movement, and Snape's eyes were drawn to his hands, clenching and grabbing at the covers and pillows. Biting his lower lip, he drew out, easing himself back with a slow precision. Again and again he drove himself into Harry, and eventually the moans of pain beneath him turned into something else. How odd, that pain could so easily turn to pleasure...
It didn't take much to send Snape over the edge. He increased his pace, his head thrown back. At some point, Harry began arching upwards, meeting his thrusts. It was sinful heat, and then bursting light, tingling blood, and the barest hint of sensations long lost exploding behind his eyes. Then it was over. Snape cried out, before collapsing in an exhausted heap on top of Harry.
It took him a few moments to regain his composure. He was well and truly spent, and he was finding it hard to breathe. Harry was still beneath him, not speaking or moving. He rested his head on the boy's back, inhaling deeply. He was not for after-coupling affection, and he certainly had no affection for Harry Potter. But he had just taken the boy's virginity, and perhaps in a rougher manner then he had intended. So he lay there, his breath returning to normal, attempting to enjoy the rare sensation of a willing body pressed against his. Eventually, Snape rolled off of the boy, standing and crossing the room to where a basin of water stood near the fire. He cleaned himself, ignoring the prone form lying on his bed.
//Have you any idea the repercussions of what you just did?// Snape closed his eyes, standing before the fire. He could feel the boy's eyes on him, but refused to turn around and meet them. He felt dirty, and cheap, and disgusted with himself.
//He asked for it. You did him a *favor*.// He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. He could still feel Harry wrapped around him, encasing him, squeezing him...
//You allow yourself a moment of weakness, and look what it turns into.// Snape frowned, pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottles on the mantle, still not looking at Harry. Hadn't the boy left yet? What in hell was he waiting for?
"This little session is over, Mr. Potter." Snape said, curtly. He took a long drink of the wine, feeling it travel down his throat. He heard movement behiim, im, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"What about...?"
There was a note of pleading in his voice, and Snape bristled.
"Potter, I am still dealing with the effects of what I just did. There is a clean cloth on the bedside table. I suggest you clean yourself, get dressed and leave now. If you are *that* hard off, make a stop at the Prefects' bathroom."
"Yes....sir." the last word was said sharply, and Snape thought he detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Snape heard the soft sound of movement, rustling clothing, all gll gasp from Harry. Ah yes. He would be in pain for a day or so, nothing too bad. Snape *could* have offered the boy something for it, but decided against it. Dull the pain and it would be forgotten, and Snape didn't want Harry to forget this. It wasn't something that should be forgotten, so soon afterwards.
//He will regret this. Buttimetimes like these, we have no choice but to do that which we will regret.// Snape sighed, bowing his head to stare into the flames. He heard the boy walking across the floor, slippered feet thudding dully on the stone floor. And then the soft touch of a hand on his back, before it was withdrawn and there was the sound of footsteps retreating to the door.
"Um...I'll be back tomorrow night. For...you know."
"Yes, Mr. Potter." Snape waved his hand dismissively. He wanted the boy gone. The creak of a door opening. He was nearly gone. Once he had left, Snape could do whatever he needed to deal with the events of the night. Whether it be drinking himself stupid or...he shuddered, thinking of the knife in his drawer. And to think...he would have to endure another night. And with the collar...he couldn't think on it.
Why hadn't the boy left yet? What in hell's name was he waiting for?
"Er...goodnight...." Ah. Goodbyes? Snape wanted to scoff, but made no noise. A moment more and Potter would be gone...
"...Severus."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Deathsong Balladeer