Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Rivalry	By : starstruck86 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Ron Views: 7472 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
A/N: Hey
all! *grin* Wow, thanks so much for all your reviews:

Badkittyuno
�thanks, here�s some more!

Sheree
�snapping, snarling� more self-flagellation and spiteful thoughts� I think
you�ll like this chapter ;)

Kai �toys?
Read on dear woman *grin*

Seraphime
�ha, lovely tension. Even Ron�s getting strung out with it in this chapter.

Talley �I�m
glad you like them both having a voice, I find it funner to write from both
perspectives, I think.

Tambrathegreat
�hello again! Yes, they�ve both got quick mouths, haven�t they? A bit too quick
for me.

Abbi cee
�wait and see ;)

HairsprayX12
�Ron�s oblivious, but not about that ;)

Lady Zombie
�A man and his custard are inseparable, but Ron�s not learnt.

Morganabythesea
�hello again, glad you like this one too :D

Here we are
another chapter. In which I fall back into old habits, and in which Severus
realises he is in for a very, very long year, and in which Ron gets caught
red-faced. (This story will chart the course of the school year, by the way,
skipping ahead chronologically. The time jumps will be covered though,
promise). Enjoy!

---

�I'm
telling you, Harry, this little shit has it in for me,� Ron muttered beneath
his breath.

�C'mon,
Ron, you've killed plenty of dark wizards. Are you really going to let a little
Slytherin upstart get to you?�

�Well, I
don't want to, but he seems to know how to do it without even really
trying...�

�Well kick
his arse... metaphorically speaking and all that.�

Ron raised
his eyebrows in disdain and took a soothing mouthful of butterbeer. �I'm so
glad you're as wonderful as you are at this whole advice and comforting
thing, Harry.�

�I know,
where's Hermione when you need her, right?� the brunette winked. �So how's
everything else going? Fitting in with the other teachers?�

�All except
one,� Ron snorted.

�Three
guesses who, right?�

�Spot on.�

Ron looked
uncomfortably down at the table between them and waited for Harry to speak.

�What's he
doing that's causing a problem?�

�It's not
so much anything in particular... just the fact that he has a fucking mouth and
uses it to make me look like a twat.�

�Give as
good as you get then,� Harry frowned. �I wouldn't have thought he'd be any
trouble for you whatsoever?�

�I do give
as good as I can get, and so far we're sort of existing in this fucked up
little game of getting scores off one another.�

Harry shot
him an amused smirk and took a mouthful of his own drink. Ron looked away. They
sat in The Three Broomsticks on the eve of his first match as Quidditch
referee, and he was nervous. Of course, the match would be Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and he'd be faced with
marshalling the teenager who had been nothing but a pain in his backside for
two whole months in front of the entire school.

Ron found
himself happily settled in his new job at the beginning of November, enjoying
the routine of meals, lessons and weekends. He realised that he had missed it,
having a regimented way of life which seldom changed. His lessons were going
better than expected, and his first years were coming on excellently, with a
few already attempting moves which probably should have been left until after
the Christmas break. He found himself inexplicably proud of them.

�Well... I
dunno, after the war when we talked... I got the impression that he was rather
like a grouchy cat,� Harry looked up, eyes glittering mischievously. �Maybe it�s
just something about you? He and I parted on quite... amicable terms, I guess
you could say?�

�Well
fucking bully for you!� Ron rolled his eyes. �Not everyone's so bloody lucky...
I don't know what I've done but trust me, if he can find fault with me, he
will.�

And if
he can find fault with my teaching, even better. Ron thought back to the argument
they had had when the troublesome Quidditch captain for Slytherin had gone
running to Snape claiming favouritism towards Gryffindor. Of course, Ron had
been able to justify every single one of his actions, but he hated how it had
given the surly dark man yet another chance to twist a knife into his gut.

Since the
night at the end of his first week, his sexuality hadn't been mentioned. Snape
had certainly never bothered to apologise and Ron was beyond being angry about
it. Or, at least, by the time he sat there with Harry he was over it -in the
immediate aftermath he had been absolutely fuming.

�I wonder
if it's because I�m gay?� Ron wondered aloud, taking a sullen sip of beer.

�He's a
fucking prick if it is,� Harry offered supportively.

�Well, yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that I have to work with him,�
Ron pointed out and groaned. �I should have just denied it, should have just
said they were just rumours.�

�No,� Harry
shook his head adamantly. �No hiding, Ron. You are what you are.�

�You sound
like Hermione.�

�She was
bound to rub off eventually, right?� Harry winked and Ron snorted. �Look,
though. So what? If he's just some homophobic prick who's made sick by the
thought of taking it up the arse, so what?�

�So what is
that sooner or later it's going to turn personal in front of the students,� Ron
chewed on his lip worriedly. �And I don't really want...�

He trailed
off and looked down at the table. Being gay was one thing. Coming out to his
friends and family had been another. But being out in front of a whole school
of teenaged humans, who were possibly at the rudest stages of their life? Ron
thought back to how he would have reacted to the news that one of his
teachers had been gay at school.

�You don't
want to ruin your status as Hogwarts� one and only heartthrob?�

�Well, no,
I quite like that.�

�Dunno why
they're bothering, what with your ugly mug,�

Ron's foot
connected to Harry's shin as the door to the pub swung open.

�Harry!�
The chorus of voices erupted and their table was swamped with the familiar
faces of Ron's colleagues and Harry's ex-teachers.

Ron let
himself blend into the background as question after question was thrown at his
best friend, who dealt with them all with an easy smile on his face. He was
starting to feel a bit cheerier when he felt a cool stare trained on him. Ron
looked up and met Snape's dark eyes and nearly groaned.

Fucking
wonderful. I wish this fucker had stayed unpopular and then he wouldn't keep
showing up to ruin my social occasions.

�Should you
really be out drinking?� One jet black eyebrow rose as the question was
brusquely posed.

�Just one,�
Ron forced an obscenely polite smile onto his face and tapped the glass with
his index finger. �And I've flown with far worse a hangover than this'll give
me.�

Snape
simply rolled his eyes and turned to Harry. �Potter,� he inclined his head.
�Are you well?�

Harry
looked at Ron and suddenly the redhead's stomach clenched in fear at what his
best friend might say. He gave a minute shake of his head and begged with his
gaze. Harry sighed, shot him a disdainful look and then replied to Snape in a
neutral, amicable tone and Ron released a sigh of relief.

***

Severus
blinked the sleep out of his eyes and yawned into his hand as he stood in the
staff room, pouring out a mug of tea from the cooling teapot.

�Good night
last night?� a low masculine voice asked from the chair to his right.

Looking up,
Severus saw Ron's long form stretched out in front of the fire, fingers curled
around the mug he had adopted. He merely shrugged his answer and moved over to
the window, looking out into the howling rain and a smug smirk distorted the
line of his lips.

�Shame
about the weather,� he called over his shoulder, not bothering to inject any
form of authenticity into his tone.

�Heh, say
it like you mean it Snape,� Ron muttered, and Severus heard him get to his feet
with a tiny yawn.

The sound
was completely innocent and somewhat childlike, yet it felt entirely too
intimate to hear, standing in the middle of their mismatched old congregation
area. Even more worryingly, the sound evoked a warmth in Severus' stomach that
he couldn't explain. All he knew was that he wouldn't mind, he might even like
it, if Ron made the little growling noise again.

�I'd best
get to the pitch. I'm not letting them out there if there's any danger to
them.�

�Weasley,
you cancel this match and they'll be baying for your blood,� Severus snorted,
glad that he had been distracted from the inner sounds of Ronald Weasley's
throat.

�Well they
can bay for it all they like,� Ron laughed. �I'm not going to let anybody get
injured this early in the season when we could easily reschedule.�

Severus shrugged.
�I say this with complete sincerity, Weasley, it's your funeral.�

�I can't
control the weather,� Ron pointed out.

�No, but you could have checked the forecast yesterday,�
Severus turned around and gave him a pointed stare. �Better the day before to
have the match cancelled, than the morning of the event, don't you think?�

The redhead's shoulders broadened then as the slights on his
competency sank in, and Severus waited for the retaliation, which he knew would
come -because it always came.

Ron had tried to be polite for the first month, but
throughout October his temper had worn thin and November looked to be no
different. Severus was glad; the entertainment was keeping him busy, even
though their colleagues were continually siding against him.

Well we can't be having this be an easy year for him... my
first year of teaching was absolute hell. He deserves a hard slog.

They were still trying to beat one another to the nightly
custard now that the kitchen were catering to the cold weather and providing
warm puddings every evening after the main meal. Sometimes Ron won, and
sometimes Severus won.

And last night Minerva got wise and sent the blasted custard
back. Old interfering witch.

Severus knew it wouldn't be long before Minerva called him
to her office for a little 'chat' and admonished him for the treatment of the
school's newest recruit. At least now that Ron had given up trying to be polite
Severus could claim that he was not the only person to be prolonging the
battle.

Petty, so very, very petty.

�I did check the weather, clear skies were predicted. Maybe
somebody fell out of the wrong side of bed and enticed the dark clouds,� Ron
raised his eyebrows and turned away, heading for the door.

It was fairly early and they were the only people in the
staff room. Severus waited until Ron had his hand on the doorknob and called,
�I do hope you manage to remain on your broom today, Weasley, and that your
skills on it will have vastly improved since the days you freeloaded off
Potter's generosity with your keeper position?�

Pale skin flushed an ugly red and Severus smirked through
his mouthful of tea, refusing to lower his stare as Ron glared at him.

�What's your problem?� Ron ground out, as a vein in his
throat worked hard whilst he very obviously fought to keep a lid on his temper.

�Problem? I don't understand?�

An exasperated groan filled the room and Severus smiled on
the inside. Why he should take so much pleasure in winding his ex-student up,
he didn't know, but it did bring him
a great deal of satisfaction.

��

Because you�re a
sadistic old bastard�

�Is it because I'm gay?�

Severus choked on his mouthful and spluttered it
ungracefully down his front, but before he could answer the door swung inward
and Sprout bustled through, her eyes falling on the two men-at-odds and
freezing.

�Everything alright, dears?� She asked with a worried smile.

�Just teasing Snape for not knowing where his mouth was,�
Ron gave her a gentle smile and exited the room without another word, leaving
Severus cursing his awful timing.

Whatever his problem with Ronald Weasley was, it was
certainly not the man's sexuality. Severus might have been many things -rude, bitter,
cantankerous, acerbic, and grumpy -but being homophobic was definitely not one
of his faults.

Hard to hate gays when you�re close enough to being one...

Severus assumed that Ron would never have suggested that the
problems between them had been caused by his sexuality if he had had any inkling
of Severus' own. Not that the older man would ever have volunteered the
information �it was private and very few people knew of his true inclinations.
Severus shocked himself by feeling somewhat remorseful that the redhead would
think his orientation a stumbling block between their communication.

�You're far too rude to him,� Sprout suddenly rounded on
him, her finger wagging dangerously. ��He's just a kid really, Severus, been
through far too much for someone of his age. You could cut him a little leeway,
don't you think?�

The kindly witch poured her own cup of tea and looked at
him, clearly expecting an answer.

�I do not think I am any harder on him than I am the rest of
you?� Severus turned back to the window.

�Well you're a moody sod at the best of times,� the woman
walked up beside him. �And none of us particularly blame you, after your past.�

Here we go -its �bleeding heart with breakfast� time.

�But have you ever considered that it's all over now? That
you don't have to be instantly rude to everybody?�

�I am not being rude, these are merely the more sour attributes
of my personality.�

�Well, it wouldn't surprise me if Ron thinks every attribute is sour...�

�Then he has failed to see my more amenable side.�

�Has anybody ever really seen that, other than Albus?� She
needled.

�Look, Pomona,�
Severus set his mug down on the window ledge and turned to her. �I appreciate
what you are trying to do. But I don't need your pity, or even your attempts at
friendship.�

�Simply because life has not afforded you friends thus far,
Severus,� she overrode his speech with determined eyes, �It does not mean you
are doomed to the rest of your years without them. If you would actually look at that man you would notice that
you have a very similar sense of humour.�

Severus stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

�You laugh at the same things, you get a very similar wry
smirk on your mouths, for example, when a student drops something or falls
over. Cruel, but don't you see?�

�Either way, I really do not wish to procure Weasley as a
friend,� he assured her. �If it will help you sleep more soundly at night, Pomona, I will endeavour
to cut the sarcasm between us.�

�It's a start,� she smiled. �We'll have you out drinking
together in no time.�

�I very much doubt that.�

�He needs someone... like he is,� the witch fixed sparkling
blue eyes on him, and Severus inwardly groaned, knowing exactly what she was
getting at.

�I would prefer it if our lives were kept personal,� he
sniffed.

�Well, you didn't exactly allow his to be kept personal when
you practically forced him to admit his sexuality on his first
night out with us, did you?�

�He could have lied.�

�He's the honest sort,� she dismissed.

�More fool him, then,� Severus drained the rest of his mug
and walked it back over to the tray.

�If you don't make an effort, Severus, I might just happen
to bring it up with Minerva the next night we're playing bridge.�

These fucking witches. There's a lot to be said for being
bent, men other than Albus rarely meddle like this!

�Well, I'm sure I will be able to handle any visit Minerva
pays me,� he declared, and left the staff room, scowling.

***

The rain had abated, for which Ron was glad. He didn't want
to award Snape any medals for being right, but he knew that to have cancelled
the match at such short notice would have caused nothing short of uproar. The
whole school had been thriving for the first match of the season for at least
three weeks, winding themselves up into a state of excitement which he could
well remember.

But if anybody gets injured then it's my call, my
decision...

Not for the first time in two months, Ron found himself
overwhelmed with the responsibility that came alongside his job. He brushed
down his refereeing robes and looked in the mirror. After leaving the pub early
the night before he had managed a relatively early night, though he had tossed
and turned in his bed as sleep evaded him.

And you thought about Snape until it eventually came for
you...

Scowling at himself, Ron flushed at the memory of the
sarcastic bastard who had chased him out of the pub early yet again. He had
feigned tiredness but truthfully he had just wanted to get out of the
penetrating gaze of the dark eyes, and away from the disdain which poured in
his direction.

Wonder why he spat down himself when I asked if it was
because I was gay? Their
latest encounter had done nothing to endear Ron to the dark-haired man, though
he was certainly intrigued by his reaction to the question Ron had never meant
to pose.

There was a knock on the door then and he jumped.

�Come in!�

�Just came to wish you good luck,� Harry stepped in,
grinning from ear to ear, sporting his old Gryffindor scarf.

�Ah, was kind of hoping you would have fucked off
overnight,� Ron wandered to the window and looked out of it absently.

�And miss your debut as referee? I think not. You're just
lucky your brothers were busy this weekend.�

�I thank Merlin and every witch and wizard in his arsenal
that they aren't here to torment me.�

Harry laughed. �I'm off. Go team.�

�I have to be impartial,� Ron made a face.

�I'll be watching your Slytherin for ideas -a beater,
right?�

Ron nodded. �Just the thought of him has me running for the
exit.�

�Courage!� Harry shouted back as he walked through the door. �Remember what they
said on that refereeing course thingy!�

***

The air was cool and undoubtedly full of moisture as the
teams played. Ron had felt somewhat proud as the metal of the whistle had
caressed his lips for the first time and shrilly invoked the play. Gryffindor
were winning 40-0 and the Slytherins were remaining decidedly focussed, keeping
their game clean and classy.

They scored a goal as he hovered, and a sea of green at the
left end of the pitch erupted into cheers. Gryffindor snatched the quaffle back
immediately, tightening their ranks whilst their seeker, a tiny blur of a
fourth year, flitted back and fourth across the pitch with speed Ron had only
really seen rivalled in Harry and Charlie.

And when it comes to picking my team for the international
games...

Slytherin, for all their reputation, seemed full of stylish
players. Their manoeuvres were precise and pointed and none of them made an
unnecessary move.

But they need to take more chances, they're playing it safe
and they're losing...

Gold and red erupted as a dark-haired chaser stuffed the
quaffle through a hoop and Ron fought down his smile. He watched the game for a
few minutes more, moving only once to keep out of the way of the Slytherin
seeker, who actually gave him a smile.

Well, they can't all be knobs...

His eyes fell on his resident troublemaker, team captain of
the green clad students and his eyes glazed over. Two months of criticism,
nasty quips and undermining, Ron hated the little shit. There was no other way to describe him, either.

�Oh, has she seen the snitch?!�

The commentator shrieked and Ron flew fast to catch up with
the seekers of each team, who were flying neck and neck towards a point on the
ground. His eyes had never been best suited to finding the subtle gold glinting
of the tiny snitch balls, but even Ron could see it hovering just above the
grass. He watched with building excitement as the two players jostled each
other, flying towards the grass. It would be a good test of their braking to
see how soon each of them stopped to grab the ball.

Seeing a definite elbow jab, Ron yelled out his disapproval
and it threw the Slytherin off, allowing the red clad seeker to take the lead.
The crowd were screaming all around them and Ron leant forward on his broom,
eyes narrowed, trying to keep his focus on the Gryffindor seeker and her prey.

�Fucking get in,� he hissed, as the fourth year suddenly
yanked her broom upward, her fist closed around an object with tiny wings
poking out between her equally small fingers. �Don�t bend it!� he yelled out,
but it was lost to the tumult of noise which flooded the stadium.

Ron blew shrilly on his whistle and gave the arm signal to
award the match to Gryffindor, feeling the first spatter of rain on his brow.
The Gryffindor supporters had broken into chants and the team was merrily
hugging out their first victory of the season mid-air and Ron carted his broom
about, preparing to head down to the ground, when he found himself face to face
with the Slytherin Captain.

�She shoved him,� the beater insisted, his bat held tight in
his fist. �And you fucking yelled out and distracted him.�

�Language,� Ron frowned instantly. �Watch your mouth.�

�You just cost us a game!� Dunn fumed, his bat rising
through the heavier drops of liquid beginning to drip from the sky.

The crowd noise had dropped to a rumble as the benches began
to clear and Ron dragged a hand back through his hair.

�I am the referee, Dunn, and if I see something I don�t like
it�s my job to shout out and warn a player about it. Your seeker elbowed her in
the ribs with the intent to knock her off, and to be honest he�s lucky he
didn�t get more than a shout.�

�Absolute bollocks!�

�Seriously, Dunn, watch your mouth or I�ll-�

�What?� the blonde laughed. �Take house points? Tell my Head
of House? Well, you can�t take house points and my Head of House thinks you�re
a doxy short of a nest, so you can bloody well-�

�Enough!� Ron yelled. �Even if I don�t have the power to
take points, I�m still a teacher,� Ron�s knuckles were white on his broom. �So
shut your mouth, Dunn, whilst I go and find somebody who does have that happy
capability.�

He wheeled about on his broom as the rain really began to
fall. There was an angry growl from behind him and then Ron felt the player�s
anguish as opposed to just hearing it. His collarbone snapped as the heavy bat
connected with it and he wheeled about, his mouth falling open in both disgust
at what the player had done and the pain coursing through his body.

In my day �oh, Godric,
I�m old�

Spinning round once more, Ron opened his mouth to let loose
a torrent of fury on the Slytherin. He heard a warning yell, and then there was
a whistle.

Fuck.

One of the bludgers, still in play where Dunn had kept him
occupied by being an idiot, smacked straight into the back of his skull, and
knocked him out cold.

***

Severus looked out of the infirmary window at the rain which
was still falling in stair rods from the sky, and sighed. The room had a
slightly damp smell to it, where the stone walls were cold and Ron�s clothes
had been drenched when he had been deposited on the wing bed, which was far too
short for him.

Turning, Severus took a moment to appreciate just how tall
the redhead actually was. There seemed a great deal of space between his ankles
and where his calves picked up at the end of the mattress. He let his dark eyes
travel up the thin legs, covered by a blanket, and then the slender waist, trim
stomach, toned arms and recently repaired collarbone. Freckled skin was creamy
pale and flaming hair had been messily dried and lay in a blaze on the white
pillow.

All in all, a rather
handsome specimen.

His feet took an involuntary step towards the prone figure
and he lowered his chin to better observe the quiet breathing of the man.
Severus didn�t want to admit how attractive he was finding the injured
Quidditch teacher, but he would be hard pressed to find any other way to
describe his feelings at that moment.

But why bother, it�s
not as if he would ever be interested. He looks at you with utmost contempt
most days.

Severus held his breath as the redhead muttered in his
slumber and his eyelashes fluttered.

Auburn, just like his hair� Shaking his head, he remembered why Ron�s eyes often held
contempt when looking in his direction. Because
he thinks you have a problem with his sexuality�

Sighing, he dropped silently into the empty chair at the
head of Ron�s bed and folded his arms across his chest. With a swallow, he
allowed himself to feast some more on the sight sprawled on the bed.

And anyway, what
happened to that golden rule about never becoming romantic with your
colleagues?

Biting down a snort, Severus conceded such a rule had only
been easy to follow because the rest of the people who worked at Hogwarts were
incredibly unattractive, to him, at least. Ron had injected fresh new blood
into the ranks and only Severus, it seemed, was unwilling to adapt to the new
addition.

This is not remorse, Severus told himself firmly. He�s a bloody ginger custard stealing favouritism-rife
moron.

Sighing, the older man had to sit and acknowledge that he
didn�t really believe any of those things. Even on the nights that Ron had made
it to the custard jug first, he had left a small amount in the bottom. Severus
had never taken it on principle, but he had known it was there and that alone
was enough to tell him that the redhead�s heart wasn�t really into their squabbling.
At the same time, he also knew that Ron was in no way favouring one house.
Despite being a Gryffindor to his very core, Severus had seen no true proof of
him giving them any extra help.

And now that stupid
little sod has gone and got himself banned from Quidditch.

Or, he would, when Severus left the hospital wing and found
him to inform him of the matter. It was very obvious that the boy didn�t know
how much the staff benches could see in the stadium. They had all seen his
transaction with his referee, all winced when the heavy beater�s bat smashed
into the slender redhead�s collarbone, and all groaned with disbelief when the
bludger further attacked his precious body.

Ugh, I did not just refer to Ronald
Weasley�s body as �precious�. Puppies and princesses are precious. Not sweaty,
roughened, masculine, toned�

Losing his
actual point, Severus focussed hard on Ron�s body and noticed that his lips
were moving slightly. Getting back to his feet and leaning over the man,
Severus bent his head to try and decipher if there were any words coming out.

�Weasley,
can you hear me?� he tried, feeling foolish but seeing as the matron of the
ward seemed to have disappeared, he knew it was in his best interests to try
and bring the redhead out of any nightmares he might be having.

There was a
garbled stream of mumbling as his reply and Severus paused again, looking down
into the peace-slackened face and shocked himself by nearly smiling.

Sweet Salazar�s scrotum, time to get
the hell out of here, Severus, whilst you�re still normal and not spouting love
poetry for all and sundry about a beautiful redheaded nymph with eyes like
glittering sapphires.

***

Ron hurt.
There was no other way to describe the unsubtle pounding of his head and the
deep ache in his left shoulder.

Oh, God� that fucking son of a
bastard� I�ll kill him� I�ll�

Knowing he
was too tired to leap out of bed and commit murder on one of his charges, Ron
settled for angrily groaning his discontent. The sound rewarded him with a most
miraculous feeling �fingers carding through his hair and lifting it off his
brow, massaging his painful scalp with an almost tender reverence.

He groaned
again, hoping to convey his appreciation, but it seemed to chase the fingers
away and he frowned, wanting them back.

Forcing
himself to crack open his eyes, he blinked as the ward lights blinded him. As
the brightness faded to normality, he tried to focus on who was in the room
with him, who the cool fingers had belonged to. There was a dark figure over
against the opposite wall, talking to a woman.

�Mumph.�

Speaking
didn�t turn out as successfully as he�d hoped, but it did get attention.

�There you
are,� a female voice spoke. �Back with us at last.�

�Wha��
happ�d?�

Am I pissed? I don�t remember being
pissed�

Ron tried
to lift his head and moaned at the ache.

�I can get
some pain draughts in you now,� the woman�s voice was kind and soothing.

�Who
touched m�hair?� Ron mumbled. �Nice.�

�Nobody
touched your hair,� the woman assured him. �It�s just me and Severus here,
dear.�

What the fuck is that greasy sod
doing here? Come to gloat? Couldn�t even wait until I was walking around again?

�You must
have imagined it,� the high-class drawl sounded and Ron closed his eyes,
letting it wash over him.

Doesn�t sound that sexy when I�m not
out of my mind with pain. Oh, ergh, Snape isn�t sexy. No part of him is.

Ron
re-opened his eyes to prove his point and looked directly at the tall thin man
with sallow skin, lank hair and cold unfeeling eyes. Taking a deep breath Ron
accepted the first potion offered to him with a wince. It tasted of vinegar and
stung the back of his throat, making him choke ungracefully.

�You took a
nasty knock to the head,� the woman muttered. �Every year the Quidditch
injuries get more severe and they simply will not stop it.�

�Injury�
part of the game�� Ron muttered, accepting another.

�It does
rather keep you in a job, Poppy,� Snape offered to the conversation. �Without
the usual patching up after every match I daresay you�d be somewhat bored.�

�I would
much prefer to be bored than be mending useless injuries,� Poppy huffed, and
administered her last potion with a particularly honed glare for the both of
them.

Then she
collected the empty potions vials and walked off to her office, shutting the
door with a bang loud enough to make Ron�s head swim.

�Ow,� he
muttered pathetically. �Thanks for that, Snape.�

There was a
derisive snort. �The woman would wrap us all up in cotton wool if she had her
own way,� he commented, dropping into the seat level with Ron�s pillow. �She
has patched me up more times than I care to remember but never once did she
ever consult me if it was what I wanted.�

�S�her job,
innit,� Ron breathed, wishing that the nurse had thought to give him some water
to wash down his medication.

�You know
as well as I do that such employ should be free of a God-complex,� Snape
muttered, and Ron watched as a long thin hand reached out for a glass of water
on the table next to his bed.

He could do
nothing but lay in stunned silence as the raven-haired man lifted the glass up
to his lips and held it there whilst Ron slurped slowly at the cool liquid. Ron
pulled back and the glass disappeared. He closed his eyes to avoid having to
thank the man.

�Dunn will
be suspended,� Snape�s voice sounded bored, as though he were waiting to flee
from the infirmary as soon as his customary duties were finished. �I won�t have
him playing for the team for the rest of the year.�

Ron looked
up then, confused. �But it�s his last year��

�And your
point is?� Snape arched an eyebrow. �He committed bodily harm. He�s lucky
Minerva doesn�t want to expel him. However, I�m sure your gaggle of fans that
I�ve had to dispel from the doorway were grateful for the chance to express
their undying love in the form of handmade get well cards.�

�Not got
fans,� Ron blinked and frowned when Snape merely gave him a bitter laugh.

�Anyway, as
I said, Dunn will be suspended and you will not have to deal with him any
further.�

�S�not
important,� Ron tried shaking his head. �Oh, roger me with a broomstick,
that�s�agony� ow� fuck��

When his
tirade was over he opened his eyes again to see Snape staring at him with a
slightly bemused expression, but before he could open his mouth to ask why, the
hospital wing door burst open.

�My baby boy!
Will you ever stop getting yourself injured?�

Molly
Weasley�s voice shrieked through the infirmary like a klaxon and Ron almost
cried at the pain it induced.

�You got my
mother?� He asked Snape desperately.

�I had
nothing to do with it,� the thin man sneered, and got to his feet. �Thank
Potter for that one.�

�I�ll
fucking kill him,� Ron breathed as his mother neared.

�I�d rather
you didn�t, we all gave a lot to keep him alive and it would be wasteful for it
to end now.�

Ron caught
himself before he laughed at the man�s joke, and instead simply looked up at
his slender black-clad form.

�I hope for
your sake that you are able to get out of here soon,� Snape shot a pointed look
at the closed office door. �She�s murder when she refuses to release you.�

�Right,�
Ron answered quietly, and watched as Snape swept from the infirmary with a curt
nod to his mother and a billow of black robes.

�Honestly,
Ron, what am I going to do with you?�

Groaning,
Ron felt the warmth of his mother�s hand on his forehead.

�You�re old
enough by now to know how to stay on your broom, surely?�

***

I am surprised there was no
simpering lover hovering over his bedside, tending to his wounds.

Severus was
lying fully awake in the darkness of his dungeon bedroom, wrapped snugly in a
thick duvet. Sleep was evading him and it drove him to insanity to think that
the redhead currently ensconced in the hospital wing was the reason for his
restlessness.

He said he was unattached.

Huffing at
himself, Severus rolled onto his back and squeezed his eyes tightly shut,
though the image of the unconscious pale man floated across the darkness.

Might have just been saying that
because he didn�t want us to know he was gay.

Thinking
that was probably a fair assessment, Severus let his mind wander over the fact
for a while, marvelling at how wonderfully straight the redhead acted, how his
body language gave absolutely nothing away.

Not a hint of pink anywhere.

Severus
snorted to himself then. His own collection of clothing held not one ounce of
pink, and yet he had bent both ways for years.

And I wonder how our resident
hothead would react to such a revelation? If he would recoil, or be glad of the
conversation? You could drink together; pass comment on the saggy backsides of
the local wizarding population�

Realising
that his thoughts were dissolving into the realm of the preposterous, he
focussed all his efforts on drifting off to sleep.

I wonder what that body feels like,
writhing around a mattress with its cock leaking and red�

�Stop it,�
he hissed at himself. �You�re just turning yourself on.�

Just because he�s the first man
under thirty to even look at you in as many years doesn�t mean that anything
will happen. Especially when the looks are full of contempt and loathing.

Severus
knew he had largely brought that on himself, and sighed into the darkness. His
hostility did not seem to be something he could control when it came to the
redhead. Earlier that afternoon in the infirmary had been their politest
interaction to date, and that was probably because one of them was too
incapacitated to talk.

I helped him drink a glass of water�
that might change his opinion of me?

Knowing
that he was thinking utter bollocks, Severus growled angrily, realising that
only one thing he could do would probably endear the redhead to him.

And why on earth do I want
endearment? He�s nothing! A gangly ginger freckled wretch riding on his best
friend�s glory who cannot teach for pumpkin juice. Nor can he stay on his
bloody broom during a simple Quidditch match.

Severus had
to begrudgingly admit he was being unfair there �not many men could have fallen
any other way but down, as Ron had done. He would never admit the flip his
stomach had performed when the body hit the grass and didn�t move, blood
leaking from the back of Ron�s skull.

You would have reacted seeing
anybody injured in such a manner. The fact that it was him was superfluous.
Just a Weasley, nobody important. He won�t last the year.

Feeling
more confident, Severus rolled onto his front and wrapped his arms around his
pillow, burying his face into it. It smelt of himself and he suddenly found
himself longing for the scent of a lover in his bed. Not necessarily for the
scent of sex, but simply the smell of another having shared his warmth, having
shared his duvet and slept with him.

This is ridiculous. People steal
bedcovers. They create unpleasant aromas beneath them. They also snore and
disturb your nightly �beauty� sleep. You do not need someone to do any of those
things in this beautiful piece of carpentry.

But you do need to assure Ronald Weasley that his sexuality is not the
reason that you hate him, because even you can see that the pressure of that is
wicked, and not in a satisfying way.

And maybe you should figure out why
exactly you do hate him.

The custard is frankly a poor
excuse.

And it won�t work when he keeps
leaving you the dregs.

Maybe I should leave him the dregs,
next time that I win?

Don�t be ridiculous, Severus.
Slytherins do not share.

But apparently they do stroke
through auburn hair when they think nobody is watching. And then glow inside
somewhat when the owner of said auburn hair proclaims the action �nice��

Annoyed to
have admitted his supreme moment of weakness, even to himself, Severus turned
his thoughts elsewhere.

***

Ron knocked
back another pain potion and, as he was alone, allowed himself to pathetically
moan at the evil taste of the potion. He was in his rooms having finally begged
leave of the hospital wing.

I wonder if you�ll ever live this
down?

His eyes
trailed over the card George had sent on the mantelpiece. The only reason it
hadn�t been sent back full of curses was that the humour had only recently
returned to his broken brother and Ron wasn�t going to knock it.

But his
head still hurt very much and he was fuming with the boy who had put him into
the hospital wing.

In all fairness, the match actually
went really well� and he�s right, I don�t have the authority to dock him points
or put him in detention. I have to refer to Head of House�

Curled up
on his sofa, Ron chewed on his lip. If he tried hard enough, he could still
feel the touch of cool fingers on his scalp. He had never found out who it had
been, but had half-convinced himself that in his pain he had imagined the tender
sensation. There had been nobody by his bed when he had woken up and the only
other occupants of the room had been deep in conversation. Also, similarly
�Madam Pomfrey would have had to have let her standards slip greatly to be
caressing a patient in such a way, and Snape� Ron laughed aloud at the thought
of Severus Snape willingly touching him.

He willingly helped you with the
water� Ron�s mind
threw out there and he considered it. Yeah
but that�s because he�s not a total bastard. He has to have some decency, if
only to keep up appearances.

He couldn�t
help the burning blush which spread across his face when he thought of how he�d
have to face the school the next morning, face the taunts that he, an adult and
the damned referee, had been knocked
out cold by a bludger and fallen fifty feet to the ground with his robes
flapping around his head.

Good thing you wear joggers beneath
them� that could have been pretty ugly�

Groaning
and dropping his face into his hands, Ron squeezed his eyes shut and tried to
make all of it go away. He had been given leave to recover if he wanted it, but
he had stalwartly refused and sent McGonagall, Sprout, Pomfrey and, of course,
his own blood matriarch into simultaneous mother-hen mode, fussing over him. It
was the one saving grace of the day that Snape had left before that happened.
The thought of him standing there smirking whilst McGonagall personally held
the thermometer beneath his tongue was just a little too much.

All in all,
it had been a very bad end to the week. It was Sunday night and the rain was
still dripping past the castle windows and wind rattled them. Aimlessly he got
up and wandered to the curtains, parting them, looking down into the soggy
grounds and loving how dramatic it all looked from his elevated position.

And how have you made bad weeks
better since you discovered you were gay?

Ron tapped
his fingers on the windowsill and focussed on the trees on the forest.
Something about using his sex toys in the middle of a castle full of children
felt wrong, and he had refrained from doing so since he had arrived, preferring
to rely on his right hand for stimulation.

But over
the past week, there had been a burn building in his stomach, a want for more,
a want to be fucked.

Which is weird, because you�re
naturally a top�

Shivering
at the idea of what he�d been denying himself, Ron absentmindedly reached down
and palmed his cock, filling steadily beneath the checked pyjama bottoms he
wore.

It�s Sunday night at eleven. Nobody
is going to knock on your door tonight, none of the students know where your
rooms are and the staff have better things to do than check up on you at this
hour�

Decided,
Ron crossed into his private bedroom and closed the door. Then he stripped with
record speed and eagerly grabbed hold of his cock, stretching out with a
satisfied groan as the muscle hardened further. Summoning what he needed from
the wardrobe he fell backwards on the bed, his hand never leaving his crotch as
the other grazed over his belly and set about his nipples.

Never any fun doing this by myself
any more when I know what it�s like with another bloke.

Trying to
cheer himself up, Ron let his thoughts drift to the burly dragon tamer he had
struck up a casual relationship with during his year on Charlie�s sofa. He
imagined the roughened hands on his body, gripping his hips, and groaned aloud
when he thought about the wetness of his cock being tongued.

A further
addition of the memory of being rimmed nearly sent him flying over the edge far
too early, and he took a deep breath to steady himself before grabbing hold of
his wand and setting a stretching spell about himself. Rolling over and burying
his face in the coverlet, he moaned as the magic worked over his prostate and
the soft material pressed into his cock.

One thing to be said for these very
large private rooms� no way in hell anybody�s going to hear the noise I might
make�

To be sure,
though, he whispered a breathy silencing spell in the nick of time before the
spell up his arse finished with its usual burn of heat and he swore loudly to
the room. Wasting no more time, he picked up the charmed dildo and smirked at
it slightly, a hundred and one thoughts about how they should become best
friends over the course of the next year running through his head.

Slathering
the thick fake shaft with lube, he awkwardly rose onto his knees and reached
behind himself.

Graceful� so graceful�

Pulling
apart his cheeks he positioned the dildo at his entrance and whispered the
incantation to let the toy start. It would continue until he finished the
in-built charm.

As usual,
though, Ron planned to let it work at him until he couldn�t take it any longer.
His stamina had been something that astounded his holiday lover, because he
seemed to have been blessed with the ability to come multiple times in a
session.

Lurching
forward he positioned himself on his hands and knees, his eyes fluttering shut
as he was filled entirely, without slowness or any kind of mercy, in one fell
swoop of movement.

I fucking love being a wizard.

�Fuck,
yes,� he hissed and reached for his erection, batting at the air as his hips
moved to the beat of what was behind him.

This would be so much better if
there was someone there sucking that�

He let his
thoughts drift again and swallowed hard at the thought of the impromptu
threesome he had somehow found himself involved in on his very last night in Romania. It had
seemed somewhat impossible, arms, legs, bodies and cocks everywhere, but it had
felt so dirty that ever since he had
been clamouring for a way to find another. But back in England the
possibility seemed unlikely, if only because everybody seemed to know one
another. The close-knit magical community did absolutely nothing for his sexual
experimentation.

But fuck, when that guy was fucking
me when I was fucking� oh, shit�

Feeling
like a total idiot, Ron broke out into incoherent babble as the dildo picked up
speed, fucking him harder with every thrust, and even his hand on his cock was
forced to still as his orgasm began to roar in his belly.

�Fucki�mgonnacome!�
he rasped, mouth remaining open even though there was nobody to hear him, and
certainly nobody to see. �Yes, yes, fuck come on, yesyesyesfuckyes��

It would
never be the same as an actual coupling, but it was enough to grant him the
release he had been longing for, a release induced by a thorough pounding. His
arms giving way, Ron buried his face in the cover as he fought against the tide
of climax.

�Fuck me
harder you son of a-�

His words
were cut off when a loud knocking cut through his rooms and he froze for a fraction
of a second, before the thought of being caught with an enchanted fake cock up
his arse, stark naked, shoved him wailing over the edge of orgasm, and his
spunk sprayed the bed.

***

Severus set
down his glass of wine and looked broodingly into the fire. His weekend had not
improved. He had located the Slytherin Quidditch Captain after breakfast and
told him in no uncertain terms that he was lucky to still be a student at
Hogwarts, and that he was being stripped of his badge.

The usual
sob story about pressuring parents and wanting a career in the Quidditch
leagues barely moved Severus; the heartfelt tears which followed only cemented
the boy�s fate.

You�re an evil prick, Severus�

Getting to
his feet and checking the clock over his mantelpiece, Severus ignored what his
mind had said. He saw no fault in punishing a student for wrongdoing,
especially when they had caused bodily harm to a member of staff. Even if that
member of staff wasn�t particularly endearing to him, even Severus couldn�t
deny that it had been a gross example of misconduct.

He exited
his dungeon quarters and locked the door behind him. As he walked, he noticed
how very quiet the castle was, and revelled in the Sunday nights when all of
the pupils were locked in their common rooms, frantically doing the homework
they had ignored for the rest of the week. He, on the other hand, had never
done that; never left his schoolwork to the last minute, and thus he had always
had Sundays free as nights of relaxation. True to form, all of his marking was
up to date and he had spent a pleasurable evening with a good book and the
bottle of wine he had just finished.

And now you can go and grovel to
this bloody redhead to see if your conscience will let you get a wink of sleep
tonight.

Severus� Saturday
night�s sleep had been severely disturbed. Every time he eventually managed to
drift off he dreamt of Quidditch games and falling bodies, and woke up with a
jolt.

And the fact that the falling bodies
always had red hair�?

Walking
quickly up the steps in the entrance hall, Severus ignored his mind and thought
of inane tasks until he reached the fourth floor, where he knew Minerva had
plonked their newest member of staff in what was probably the nicest suite in
the entire castle.

And we never knew what old Hooch did
to entice Albus into giving her those� when they had previously been the
Headmaster�s private quarters�

Severus
wondered if Ron knew the hallowed walls in which he slept had housed hundreds
of Hogwarts� headmasters and mistresses through their time. He snorted when the
thought crossed his mind that he hoped the redhead was treating them with the
respect they deserved.

The
corridor was silent as he stepped up to the heavy wooden door and knocked on it
three times, the sound of his knuckles echoing along the old stone with
indecent loudness. There was silence from within the quarters and he knew he
was chancing his luck, considering the late hour.

His skull was cracked open� I would
hope he would be in bed�

Which, of
course, was exactly why Severus had
chosen the late hour to try and make his amends. An attempt to fool his
conscience kept him happy �if Ron didn�t bother to answer the door to him, be
it through rudeness or slumber, then he would have at least tried to have made
rights out of his wrongs. It would be Ron�s fault if he did not allow them to
become reality.

Which is a load of old wank and you
know it.

Resounding
silence still poured from within the room and a smug smirk popped onto his
lips. He knocked again, even harder, and waited with a happy feeling blossoming
into his chest. Severus didn�t make a habit of apologising, to anybody, and if
he could get out of this particular apology he would find himself almost
skipping back to his rooms.

He turned
his body away, and then with a jolt of horror in his stomach heard rustling and
a muttered curse from the other side of the door. Then it swung open.

Ronald
Weasley came into view, his hair tousled and the skin of his face slightly
flushed and sweaty. Severus looked at him with wide eyes before he honed his
reaction into one of indifference, though he couldn�t help noticing the hastily
thrown on dressing gown (you can tell
from the way the belt�s all wonky�) and bare legs sticking out from the
bottom.

�Snape?�

The word
was hoarse and Severus wondered just what the flying instructor had been up to.

�Weasley,�
he gave him a curt nod and pushed aside his curiosity. �Are you able to talk at
the moment?�

Curiosity
flared back into life as Ron pointedly pulled the door to, so that it rested on
his hip whilst the other pressed into the doorframe.

�I was just
heading to bed,� he said apologetically, his tone clearing with every word. �Is
there a problem?�

�No,�
Severus shook his head. �I simply��

His eyes
took in the tousled hair and thought about what it would feel like to run his
hand through it.

Severus, concentrate.

�You do know that it is against your contract
to harbour a lover in your rooms at the school?�

Bugger and blast that all to hell.
So much for being polite and making amends.

Ron�s face
paled slightly, but then he gathered himself together, and pushed the door open
fully. �I�m alone.�

Severus
watched an auburn eyebrow raise in challenge cursed the clever redhead, who
knew that he would never dare to enter the room to check, because they both knew it was absolutely none of his
business.

�Are you
unwell, then? Forgive me, you look rather� over-exerted.�

�No, I�m
fine,� Ron straightened his spine and folded his arms over his chest.

Severus
watched as the robe shifted and he caught an expanse of creamy skin at the
neck, peppered with red wisps of hair.

�What was
it you wanted?� Ron asked.

�I, uh��

All his
well-planned conversation had evaporated and Severus cringed at how ridiculous
he was making himself look without hardly any effort at all. He shifted his
weight between his feet and looked up into Ron�s face again. �I merely wanted
to� well, discuss something you raised in the staff room this morning.�

�Oh?�

�You asked
whether my �problem� with you was caused by your sexuality,� Severus broadened
his shoulders.

�And you
thought knocking on my door at eleven on a Sunday night was the best time for a
heart to heart?� Ron�s voice was almost a perfect imitation of his own, and
Severus nearly blushed before he caught himself.

�I know the
hour is late but I��

�Was too
ashamed to do this when you thought anybody might catch you,� Ron answered
shrewdly for him, and then his lips cracked into a wry smile. �Snape, for
Godric�s sake, it�s late. Go to bed.�

Where you have clearly just tumbled
from� naked�

�I was
merely attempting to placate your worries,� Severus took an offended step
backward and glared at the redhead. �Next time, Weasley, I shan�t bother.�

�Is it because I�m gay?� Ron asked,
eyebrows shooting into his hair. �Really, in this day and age? After everything
you�ve seen, the thought of a little
man-on-man action is what sends you into a mood?�

Well, yes, a little man-on-man
action certainly sends me into a mood, but not the one you�re assuming.

His anatomy
twitched unhelpfully in his underwear and Severus fought hard to focus. �No,
Weasley. I came here to assure you that your sexuality has nothing to do with
the� well. I simply don�t have an issue with it.�

�Thank
you,� Ron�s voice turned coolly polite and the smile became easy. �Not that it
really bothered me, but it�s nice to have your assurance all the same Snape.
Care to stretch to an apology for putting me on the spot about admitting it in
front of my colleagues?�

�I make no
apologies for what was a fair question and warning of student gossip,� Severus
answered stonily. �If you were uncomfortable with it, you should have said.�

There was a
tiny scoff of a laugh and then Ron shook his head. �So, if it�s not because I�m
bent, what is it?�

Severus
merely looked at him, and Ron looked back expectantly.

�I�ll see
you at breakfast. I hope you�ll look a little less� dishevelled, then.�

Without
another word Severus turned and strode off along the corridor, and didn�t hear
the door shut before he passed out of range.

***

Ron slumped
back against the wooden door and groaned, ripping open the robe to look down at
his wilted and dirtied crotch, his cock lolling half-filled on his balls. His
arse ached from where he had muttered the incantation and ripped the dildo out quickly
in order to answer the door.

If I�d�ve known it would be that
prick on the other side, I wouldn�t have bothered to get up.

Grumpily
Ron made his way back to the bedroom and sighed at the mess he�d made of the
bedcover, and grabbed his wand to give it, and himself, a thorough clean.
Chucking the stick of wood down on the bedside table, he crept into the sheets,
his face beginning to blush slightly at the realisation that he had just
answered the door to one of his colleagues in a post-coital haze.

Does it count as post-coital when it
was a fake cock doing the fucking?

He pondered
that as he extinguished the lights, closing his eyes and absentmindedly
scratching through his pubes.

So if he doesn�t care that I�m gay,
what the fuck is his problem? He has to be lying. Ugly prick.

***

This is ridiculous. I most certainly
do not care who he might have been harbouring in his rooms. Or who he might
have been fucking, who he might have been writhing beneath�

Checking
himself, Severus slammed his body with force down onto the mattress and yanked
the covers up to his chin.

And anyway, maybe he�s not beneath
anybody at all.

Squeezing
his eyes shut, Severus chased away the increasingly filthy images in his mind
and tried for sleep.

He�d be beneath you. And submit
willingly. He�d look delicious down on his knees, hands tied behind his back
and chained to his ankles...

�THIS IS
NOT HAPPENING!� Severus railed loudly to the pitch black room, and buried his
head beneath his pillow.
- 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

Rivalry