Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Derailed	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 19739 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I:I
- 2-I:II
- 3-I:III
- 4-I:IV
- 5-I:V
- 6-I:VI
- 7-I:VII
- 8-I:VIII
- 9-I:IX
- 10-II:I
- 11-II:II
- 12-II:III
- 13-II:IV
- 14-II:V
- 15-II:VI
- 16-II:VII
- 17-II:VIII
- 18-II:IX
- 19-III:I
- 20-III:II
- 21-III:III
- 22-III:IV
- 23-III:V
- 24-III:VI
- 25-III:VII
- 26-III:VIII
- 27-III:IX
- 28-Epilogue
- 26
- 27
- 28
Chapter nine: Runaway train, tearing up the track

It was May, and now that they had both had a chance to adjust to the events of that night, Harry had decided it was time to take Voldemort down. He didn't want to, especially knowing he was going to his own death, but he couldn't stay hidden away forever. Even if it was wonderful to have Snape touching him again. He just wished that the touches weren't so gentle and hesitant. It drove him mad sometimes, aching for a good hard wank, and all he got were soft caresses.

So, he had decided to face his enemy. And that decision had made Snape less gentle. He had tried all manner of coercion to change Harry's mind, but had refused the one act that had stood of chance of working.

Thus, it was that in the midst of the battle taking place at Hogwarts, Harry slipped behind a chunk of fallen masonry, Snape beside him. The fight had been long and arduous. One brief moment of pleasure had been jinxing Malfoy junior and claiming his wand before Petrifying the blonde. Now, though, the memory faded and he was left with the words of Voldemort that everyone had heard.

“You heard. I have to go.”

Snape shot a violent spell at a giant and turned back to Harry. “Don't,” he said quietly, “don't go.”

Harry, his face crumpling, pressed into Snape's chest and cried. “I – I don't want to. But, what choice is there? Once – once I'm gone, make sure you come and get me. And I'll need you to kill Voldemort after.”

Snape clutched the younger man to him, his heart pounding in his chest. “H – Harry,” he stammered, “pl – please!”

Harry clung on for long moments. Eventually, it was Snape who loosened his tight hold and said, “Are you taking your wand?”

Dropping it into the older wizard's palms, Harry answered, “No. I don't want to be tempted to defend myself. But I'll wear the cloak. Make sure you get that back, okay?”

He stood. Around them the same spells whizzed past in both directions and it was almost as though time had stopped for them; so little had altered during their few moments of hopeless longing. Harry slid his arms around the older man and they kissed. That stopped the spells as people stared in disbelief at the sight of the Chosen One not just kissing someone, but a man, and the man who had claimed his body so violently.

Throwing the cloak over, Harry vanished. Snape felt his knees give out and he dropped to the hard ground. Tears filled his eyes. This brave, fragile man was walking to his lonely death, and there was nothing nothing Snape could do to stop it.

Minerva Mcgonagall skidded to a halt by his side, casting a shield charm as hostilities resumed. “Severus?” she asked, shocked at the desolation on her ex-colleague's face. She had known Snape for many years, both as a student and as a teacher. His stoic nature had never slipped in all the time she had known him, but seeing him like this, utterly destroyed, tugged at her heart and made her reassure him gently, “He'll be okay.”

***

Amongst the trees, Harry watched as the small group of those most loyal to Voldemort relaxed and taunted Hagrid.

“I confess myself disappointed. I had thought the boy braver than this.” The Dark Lord swung the Elder wand negligently in one pale hand. His other palm reached out automatically for the snake that wasn't there. He pulled his hand back, his eyes narrowing and glowing dangerously at that remembered loss.

“I'm here, Tom.” Suddenly having one's enemy standing there was rather nerve-wracking, and Harry's foes jumped, all except Riddle. He just narrowed his eyes at Harry's presumption.

“Ah, Harry Potter. I think I liked you better naked and fucked and crawling. But then, word has it that you enjoyed being Snape's play thing. Are you still spreading your legs for him? Still the well-trained whore?”

The few Death Eaters around Voldemort jeered whilst Harry's hands clenched and unclenched. He ignored the comment, knowing it had been said purely to invoke some reaction. “Well, I'm here now. No wand, nothing. So, why don't you do what you've been trying to do for seventeen years? I won't stop you.”

Hagrid cried out, “No, Harry! What are yeh doin'?! Get outta here!” He roared in pain as a crowd of Death Eaters surrounded him and tortured him, but he struggled, black eyes fixed on Harry, silently pleading with him to escape.

“Do it,” Harry commanded the Dark Lord. “End this.”

***

Waiting. Snape couldn't focus on the fight, not even to protect himself, not whilst Harry was out there, possibly dying. His stomach churned at the thought. Surely Dumbledore hadn't wanted this? He must have had some way out of it? Snape's head snapped up, hearing a dreadful wailing, and he saw Hagrid approaching carrying a limp figure.

“No,” Snape's voice cracked, “no, oh, please no.” Somehow he'd believed that Harry would survive; that he'd escape as he always did. But not this. Not this final escape that took him beyond all of them. Blinded by the tears in his eyes, Snape couldn't see the fragile man. All he could see was pain and loneliness stretching out for eternity. His world had been callously destroyed at the whim of a mad man, and now there was nothing left for him.

Beside him, Mcgonagall let out a terrible scream of anguish. Her awful throbbing pain silenced the courtyard as one by one people stopped, trying to work out what Hagrid carried. And then, as realisation sank in, moans and sobs of disbelief were heard. Hagrid laid the body down, great tears splashing onto the slack face. He was too distraught to see the skin twitching.

“Harry Potter is dead!” yelled Voldemort, his voice easily heard over the hushed crowd. “He died running away, leaving you all to suffer.”

“Liar!” Neville hobbled forward and seemed able to fight free of the Petrifying spell cast at him. “You murdered him! You murdered Harry!”

Somewhere, deep inside him, the words meant something to Snape. Those awful, dreadful, final words had meaning. Harry. His precious Harry had been murdered by the Dark Lord. A terrible snarl broke from him and he stood: a slender black figure with pale face and burning eyes.

“Ah, my traitor,” Voldemort said quietly, “ready to face your punishment?”

“Touch him and I'll rip you apart!” It was Harry speaking. He was standing between Snape and Voldemort, his face white, except for the emerald green of his eyes. The crowd yelled in relief and triumph as they saw their hero, apparently unhurt, standing there, unafraid of the dark wizard who had tried to destroy him.

Snape gave a sob of pure relief and had to cover his face to hide the tears that poured from his eyes. He trembled and nearly fell, but somehow stayed upright, blurry vision fixed on his brave man.

“I killed you!” Voldemort screamed it, his voice shrill and terrified.

“Yeah? Then how come I'm still standing?” Everyone watched, hardly daring to breathe as the two great enemies at last fought their final duel.

“Severus?” Harry asked, holding out his hand.

Snape hurried to the younger man's side, despite being nearly blinded by his tears, and placed Harry's wand into the palm. For a moment he seemed as if he wanted to stand beside Harry, but then he took a step back, knowing this fight was not his. He briefly squeezed a shoulder, as if to reassure himself that really, truly, Harry was alive, before he moved away. It was only when he was standing next to Minerva and had wiped his face that he processed what he had been called: Severus. Harry had used his first name!

“You cannot win, Harry Potter. I have the Elder wand.”

“So?” Harry held up his own familiar wand. “I still have my wand. It still recognises you, you know. And you want to try again? You had the perfect chance and I didn't even resist and you still couldn't defeat me. Do you think you can now? And, by the way, Tom, there are no horcruxes left. When you die, you're gone for good!”

“You lie!” Voldemort paced fretfully, glaring at the boy who dared to defy him.

“Oh? Slytherin's locket, Gaunt's ring, Hufflepuff's cup, Nagini, Ravenclaw's lost diadem, the diary... all gone. And the last one? The big mistake? You put a bit of your soul into me. And you just destroyed that when you failed to kill me. So, how about it? How confident do you feel now?”

“It matters not!” the Dark Lord screeched, although he looked worried. “You were beaten before. You were captured and tortured and raped. Are all your friends back there sure you're strong enough for this, Potter, when you were so easy to trap?”

Harry threw a swift glance at Snape and saw the guilt on his face. He didn't have time to comfort the older man so sent a quick smile his way before facing the real danger. “I live with Severus Snape. We share a bed. Does that seem to you like I was trapped and raped? And Ron, who you seem to have forgotten, he's stronger even than me! Malfoy did rape him and he's still standing, but where's Lucius? Locked away in Azkaban!” Harry shook his head, not even aware of the mutters coming from people as they learned he slept with Snape. “Don't you understand yet? It's over. Your only way out is to actually give a damn about what you've done. Go on, Tom, try for some remorse.”

“What is this? What nonsense is this?” Voldemort sneered at Harry's final words. “Remorse? What have I to feel remorse about?!”

“You broke open Dumbledore's grave to steal his wand!” Neville shouted from the crowd. There were so many things his enemies could have hurled at him, but Neville had picked the one that seemed to cause the most disgust.

Voldemort displayed the length of wood and gave a cold smile to Harry. “His wand. The most powerful wand in the world.”

“But it isn't yours, is it?” Harry said, getting one of those flashes of inspiration that had served him so well over the years. “You've never understood wands properly. You think the only way to possess a wand is to kill the previous owner. The same as you don't understand that it's possible to be claimed and taken by someone and not be destroyed by it. You never defeated Dumbledore.”

“No, but he did,” Voldemort said, the wand aimed at Snape.

“Do it and you'll see that I'm a stronger dark wizard than you'll ever be. Do it and I pull you apart piece by piece with my bare hands.” Harry's voice throbbed with menace.

Snape moved forward, standing beside his young man, and stared at the wizard he had once admired so much. “Even if you did, it wouldn't make you the true owner of that wand. I never defeated Dumbledore. He knew he was dying and we arranged his death between us.”

“And even that went wrong,” Harry added, sliding his left hand into Severus' right, “because Draco got there first and disarmed Dumbledore. So that wand belongs to him.” Harry smiled. “Or did. I defeated Malfoy not long ago. So, that wand you're holding? That's mine.”

Screaming, Voldemort cast the killing curse with the borrowed wand. Laughing, Harry merely cast a shield and watched the spell knock the dark wizard flat. Without even waiting to see if Voldemort got back up, he tugged on Snape's hand and they began running for the wards.

“Fuck me!” he gasped as they raced away from the scene. “Please, please, tonight, fuck me!”

They passed through the spells and span away to Grimmauld Place.

***

The door closed, Snape pulled Harry into his arms and proceeded to kiss him breathless. In between kisses he growled, “You idiot boy! You idiot boy!” over and over. Harry whispered, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” endlessly as the two men reassured themselves that their partner was indeed whole.

Snapping his hips forward, Harry rubbed against the limpness between Snape's legs. It made him snarl. “Get hard!” he ordered, “Get in me!”

Shaking, Severus tugged off Harry's top and kissed the achingly hard nipples. Arching like a cat at the touch, Harry clawed wildly for the other man's hair and clung on, needing so much more. A hand moved swiftly to his trousers and unfastened them, and impatient fingers tugged clothing down and off so that Harry stood, his clothing puddled around him, his cock rigid and leaking, nipples hard, lips reddened, and body tingling with arousal.

Severus dropped to his knees and pulled the hard shaft into his mouth. He worshipped the hot flesh, savouring the shuddering, knowing how close he had come to losing this forever. Harry screamed and pulsed between the skilled lips.

“Oh...hell!” Harry panted as they shuffled into a room to collapse on a couch. Snape freed Harry from the clothing stuck at his ankles and gently kissed the calves and knees and thighs before licking the semi-hard length again.

“Severus, please! Oh, please!” Harry begged.

Snape spread the thighs and licked the twitching pucker, loving the shriek Harry gave and the wild way he lurched up, desperate to escape the far too arousing sensation. He turned his attention to balls and cock, returning to torment the channel. Between teasing licks he spoke, “You … called … me … Sev … er … us.”

Harry, writhing in delicious torment, struggled to follow the panted syllables. When he finally understood he gasped out, “Oh. Yes. Is that okay?”

Snape pulled back, rocking onto his heels as he knelt between Harry's body. “I have long called you Harry. It was long past time that you used my first name.”

One hand curling down to pump his throbbing dick, Harry said, “Please, get inside me!”

Snape's hands gripped the strong thighs, just trembling slightly to show the control he was exerting, and he slowly shook his head.

Harry screamed in frustration, “Why not?!”

Swallowing, and digging deep for the self-control he knew he would need to resist this man, Severus spoke, “Once that door is opened it cannot be shut. And I do not think you are truly ready. This is an understandable reaction to what you have been through today. But if I enter you today, Harry,” he paused as the mental image conjured up by his words made his body shudder with longing, “I will do so again and again. And that will prevent your healing that final amount. You are so close. So very close.”

Spurting, Harry moaned. “B – but, you're not being fair. I'm an adult too. This should be a joint decision. And I know you want to sleep with me, and I want to sleep with you! So, why not?”

Unable to be physically close to Harry and not enter him, Snape stood up and moved across to the other side of the room. “When did you last wear the collar?” he asked.

The question pulled Harry out of his aroused daze. “L – last week,” he confessed quietly.

There was silence. Snape had nothing he needed to say; they both knew Harry wasn't ready, despite how much they both wanted it in that moment.

“And how much of that was because of my … lapse?”

Face bowed, cheeks red, Harry admitted, “A fair amount.”

Severus hated himself for slowing Harry's recovery, but perhaps it had always been a necessary part of their growing healing: that Harry understand the passion that burned for him. If Harry had said he was ready and Snape not known he wasn't, there would have been so much harm done. As frustrated as he was, he knew he couldn't blame Harry for not being there yet, not when his own actions had set Harry back.

“I – I want you,” Harry blurted out.

Snape, his heart constricting, could only reply gruffly, “You know I want you, idiot boy.”

END OF PART THREE
- 26
- 27
- 28
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