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Advances	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11340 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the Potter universe belong to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this.

Chapter List
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- 2
- 3
CH2 AN: Thunderbird, you win the prixe for first review of Advances. Here, have a cookie! As for the stress, that isn't likely to ease yet - too much chaos. But there may be smutty goodness! SP
Chapter 2 – That Type Of Thinking Starts A Chain Reaction
Back at Privet Drive, locked safely away in his bedroom, Harry lay on his back on the bed and tried to ignore the throbbing between his legs. As usually happened once alone, the need he felt for Severus resolved itself into an erection and an aching emptiness in his channel. Not that he felt any problem with wanking in this bed, but he did at least try to restrict it to at night when he could be fairly sure no-one would start yelling at him to come down and help out.
- It might be nice if someone did come. You, for example. -
Harry groaned, trying to tune out the wolf's silky voice. It was impossible, given the animal was speaking in his own head. “Not yet,” he murmured, “later.”
- Why wait? - The voice was so persuasive. - I bet he's touching himself, thinking of you. -
Knowing who the wolf meant, and seeing that mental image, made him groan again. You're not helping. You know how much I want Severus. You want him too.
- Oh yes, little cub. - The wolf had taken to calling Harry that when it was feeling indulgent. - Yes, I do. Even locked away inside you I want him. And I'll stay good, so long as you promise me one night with him once it's safe. -
Deal. Hoping that Severus wouldn't mind too much as Harry bartered away his body, the younger man lay back, one hand cupping his balls.
- Nearly there, - the beast mocked, and for a second Harry felt sure he had felt a second unknown hand stroke over his jeans.
Was that you? he asked, breath beginning to hitch.
- I am you, remember? No, that was you missing your dominant. My submissive. -
Are all werewolves like you? Harry asked, and then sensing the other creature's confusion, went on, I mean, you're quite talkative, and you have your own personality. Are all wolves like that? Do all of us werewolves have our animals talking at us all the time?
- I don't know. I only know about you. I'm an infection, you know that. An infection he gave you. - There was a hint of a growl in the beast's tone as it discussed Lupin. - But I'm not the same as him. I look different to him. And I'm sure I act differently to him. -
Most of the time, Harry was remembering an incident in the transfiguration courtyard involving Draco Malfoy.
- Well, I had to do something to force our sweet little dominant/submissive to finally do more than just give us a hand job, didn't I? And it worked. You can thank me for all the blow jobs you got. -
You were pretending? That Harry didn't believe. He had witnessed the wolf's rage and violence from the inside.
- Not entirely, - the words came reluctantly. - But it worked out for the best in the end, didn't it? - There was silence for a moment. - So, are you going to let us come, or not? -
Giving up the struggle, Harry undid his jeans and dipped his hand into his boxers, moaning, eyes fluttering closed as he slid his fingers onto and around his twitching length. Ass clenching slightly with longing, he stroked down, and used two fingers to rub over his balls before sliding the grip back up. He twisted his tip a little, squeezing the sensitive head.
“Oh hell,” he panted, eyes seeing nothing.
Drops of fluid gathered in his slit and oozed over his swollen end, easing the motion of his hand. He swept his palm back down, rubbed at his balls, then pushed back up. His hips followed the hand, wanting to maintain that contact.
His free hand slipped under his top and found one rock hard nipple. Biting back cries of Snape's name, he pinched it. His other hand sped up its movement, pumping him with the ease born of long practice.
Inside him, the wolf was purr-growling, its arousal growing. Feeling the combined need, Harry arched his back and came, his seed spattering his hand and wetting his underwear.
There was panting externally and internally as they both came down from their high.
- Better now? - The wolf asked, aiming for snark, but missing due to its own gasps for breath.
“Much. But I still miss him.”
***
In his home that evening, alone for the first time since the previous evening, Severus sat quietly and fiddled with the fake galleon Hermione had made for him that allowed he and Harry to remain in contact. Tapping his wand against the coin he spelled a quick message onto it. “Change last night?” Given the limited space, messages had to be brief, but he hoped Harry would understand what he was asking. Plus he was always worried about what someone might discover if the message was read; so he tried for some ambiguity.
There was no change, no reply from the coin.
Annoyed that he felt upset, he then chided himself. After all, he had invested lots of time into helping Harry, he was allowed to be interested in the boy's health. Yes, he convinced himself, he was just invested; he certainly wasn't worried about his young lover. And definitely he wasn't missing him.
That last even Severus knew to be a blatant lie, as he had walked around rock hard for nearly a week now. Even mourning Albus hadn't taken the edge off his arousal.
He reached for a glass of fire whisky and forced himself to only sip the expensive drink. He would not gulp it down and get smashed. There was no way he was missing Harry that much.
“Good. Miss you.”
The reply came and he stared at the three words, a smile fighting its way onto his face. “Miss you.” Harry wanted him. This thing, whatever it was, between them – it may have started out of common decency, but it had grown and grown until it had become unstoppable. It felt much like Severus' own cock felt right now – too big to be allowed.
Desperate to do something rather than focus on his need for Harry, Severus settled at his desk and drew a piece of parchment towards him. He had mulled over what he could possibly say to Harry should the worst happen and had finally decided on the phraseology. Further, he had already updated his will and it was now sitting in Gringotts in the very likely event of his death.
The letter didn't take long to write. As much as it pained him to think of Harry reading it, he knew it was for the best. With it out of the way he drew a second piece of parchment to him and wrote out a second letter, one which dealt with a different scenario. That done he then wrote out one more letter, this time to Gringotts, explaining what he wanted to have happen if his death or a severe injury was reported.
At least he felt he had done all he could, he just needed to hide the letters safely and buy one item – a snitch to give to Harry for his birthday.
Thinking about a snitch and Harry made him consider other ball shaped objects belonging to the youngster. Severus groaned as his cock swelled painfully. Fed up of trying to deny what he wanted, the wizard worked his fingers under his clothing and began gently stroking the hot length. A flush came to his cheeks as his eyes almost closed. Hips shifting the smallest amount, he chewed on his lower lip and imagined his young bed-mate with him; those strong fingers running up and down his shaft, cupping his balls and squeezing. His hips jerked upwards as he suited the action to the thought and he moaned loudly.
Nothing short of Bellatrix bursting in could have stopped him in that moment as he rubbed his aching testicles and pumped at his throbbing prick. He missed having Harry wrapped around his cock so much. The youth had such a tight body, even after all the sex they had had, his channel always squeezed Severus, pulling him in deeper and deeper. And the noises the youngster made went straight to Snape's cock.
Grinding powerfully into his hand, Severus closed his eyes completely and moaned as he imagined Harry touching him like this. The Gryffindor had done so often enough that the teacher had plenty of memories to draw upon, and he did so now, chewing at his bottom lip as he pictured Harry lying alongside him, hand curled eagerly around the sensitive hardness, gripping tightly as he worked the slick length.
“AH!” Severus' hips shot into the air with his release, which arced gracefully out of his throbbing dick and landed with a less graceful splat on his still clothed chest.
“Oh shite,” he muttered as he realised he'd need to change before returning to Malfoy Manor.
He was so sick of the place already. He longed to get back to Hogwarts, if only to sit in their rooms and torture himself with visions of Harry hurt and bleeding and lost.
***
The week before Harry's birthday, he sat on his bed and tried not to miss Severus. So far he had failed utterly, but given the task Dumbledore had off-loaded to him; and that he, Hermione and Ron (if he got over himself) were planning on doing something dangerous and stupid, he knew he had to get control over his lust. After all, he could hardly spend every night wanking with his two friends possibly able to hear him, could he?!
The Dursleys had been less than impressed with the owls and magical visitors that invaded their home at odd hours. Most of the time the letters were filled with nothing much. Still, he appreciated that Hermione at least understood how difficult he was finding it to simply sit in Privet Drive and wait. Of course he'd heard nothing from Ron, and hadn't expected to. Their argument the previous year still loomed between them; an unspoken barricade. It would stay there until the red-head admitted that maybe Harry and Hermione did understand what it felt like to be worried about people they cared about and that they had family members to worry about too. And, if he was honest, Harry couldn't see Ron doing that. It was the one thing that made him special in their trio – he had a large family and was a clear part of their lives. Not to say that Hermione's parents weren't proud of their daughter, still, there was little they could truly understand about her day to day life.
An owl swooped in carrying a small parcel. The bird dropped it on the bed and flew away before the youth could even thank it. Cautiously, Harry undid the string and let the brown paper fall off. A folded piece of parchment lay on his bed, and holding it down was a snitch.
Curiosity got the better of him and the Gryffindor reached for the parchment.
“Harry, what the hell are you doing just picking up and reading a letter from an unknown source?!”
He grinned, recognising Severus' spiky handwriting.
“Luckily for you, I'm not out to curse you, but you MUST be more careful!
“Anyway, the snitch is your birthday present. Try not to lose it!
“If all goes to plan you will be leaving Privet Drive shortly. I doubt I will see you during your escape, but I would like to.
“Take care of yourself, idiot boy,
“Severus.”
Harry felt his eyes fill with tears at the thought of possibly seeing his partner again. He missed the other man so much it hurt. Forcing the tears away he picked up the snitch and was surprised to see writing appear on it: Adequate grasp of theory...
He smiled, recalling some of their happier memories. How he missed the older man!
Picking up the letter and the snitch he put them both into the bag he had had packed since the day after his change. It was getting rather heavy and bulky, but there was no way he was doing without Snape's present and snarky letter.
“Harry?”
Still shoving the snitch into the bulging bag, the wizard didn't really register who was speaking. When he did, he straightened up and gasped out, “Dudley?”
The older boy stomped in, looking deeply bored. “Mum and Dad have agreed to leave. Again,” he said.
This was nothing new. Harry had heard the same news at least three times already. And each time an argument had followed where Petunia's voice got shriller and shriller, and then something would get smashed and bags would be unpacked. It was getting old, to tell the truth.
“Let's hope it lasts longer than last time.” That had been a short agreement, even by Dursley standards.
In fact, Dudley had still been announcing it to Harry when the screaming had started and the larger youth had said, “Uh, spoke too soon.”
“D'you know why she keeps blowing up?” the wizard asked curiously.
Dudley shrugged. “Who knows? With Mum it could be anything.”
Eyebrows raised at the criticism, Harry considered. “So long as they've got it out of their heads that I want the house.”
The Muggle boy laughed. “Yeah, that was dumb. I mean why would you want to stay here? You can't stand us.”
Feeling uncomfortable at the truth being spoken so openly, Harry tried a bit of diplomacy. “It's not I can't stand you, it's...”
He trailed off, horrified to realise he couldn't even get a tactful lie out.
Dudley smirked at him in an expression that was very reminiscent of Draco at his most annoying. “Sure, it's not that. After all, we've always been kind and understanding, right?” He waved his arms around the room that still held his casts offs, even after all this time. “I mean, who could want to give up all this?”
---
CH3 Preview: “Where can we go?” Hermione asked, ever to the point.
“Dunno,” Ron replied moodily, fiddling with the condiments in their small box. He didn't seem to be listening. “Reckon You-Know-Who's murdered my family yet?” he asked deliberately, glaring at the woman.
“When are you going to say the name, Ron? You're being silly! What do you think he's going to do, swoop down here and attack us?” Hermione was scathing and Ron's face reddened.
“All right, you think we're so safe! Let's try it, right? Voldemort. There, I said it!”
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