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Harry Potter and the Expert Potions Master	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 21281 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 30
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- 32
Chapter 30 - Threats at the Burrow

Luckily for Harry, Ginny had written him a nice thank you note, but made no demands on him. She had said that when the child was born she might want him to help, and maybe baby sit, but she had written nothing that had made Harry fear she was going to expect him to marry her.

After all the ups and downs of their relationship, the two men seemed to have settled into a pattern that worked for them. Severus had been insistent that Harry become even more skilled at making potions. That on top of Auror training, occasionally visiting Teddy, and spreading his legs nightly for Severus meant his life was very busy and it was with a jolt that Harry realised that three months had passed and spring was in the air.

Easter was just over a week away, not that Harry had given it much thought, so he was extremely surprised to receive an invitation from the Burrow, asking him to lunch on Easter Sunday. He showed the letter to Severus who raised his eyebrows at it but said nothing.

“What does it mean?” Harry had wanted to know, glaring at the older man as though expecting him to be able to tell him.

Severus, in shirt sleeves and trousers, was stirring a cauldron full of potion. Harry stepped closer and sniffed, memory automatically shifting through the different smells to help him identify the brew. He frowned, mind coming up blank.

“Perhaps enough time has passed now that the Weasleys are able to accept you back. After all, you are friends with George, and manage to get along reasonably with Ronald, and even showed compassion for the madam who tried to smear you.”

Harry shrugged. He felt there was some current underlying the invitation but just didn't know what it was. Still, it would be nice to re-connect with the Weasleys, especially if it would mean a delicious meal too! “What about you? I don't like the idea of you alone on Easter Sunday while I'm off gallivanting and having a good feed.”
“Well,” Severus said dryly, rubbing his aching arm, “you could always write to Molly and ask her if your male partner could join them as well. That'd make the proceedings go with a bang.”
Harry paled, eyes widening. He suddenly began laughing, “Could you imagine it if I turned up with you? The younger generation would all be terrified!”

Giving the potion one final mix, and wincing at the pain in his muscles, Severus placed a lid on the cauldron and faced Harry. “As entertaining as that no doubt would be, for all of ten minutes, it would rather blow the cover on us, and probably ruin your relationship with the Weasleys once and for all.”

“If they can't accept who I'm with, then I don't care,” Harry said stubbornly, arms crossed.

“Don't be more of an idiot than you can help,” Severus chided, “you know why we keep our intimate relations private. I certainly have no desire to spend the rest of my life behind bars, condemned for all the many many 'Unnatural' acts I've gladly performed with you.”

Harry swallowed, his eyes filled with that vague fear Severus hated to see. To distract him, he asked, “Now, are you ever going to make a successful All Round Potion?”

Blinking at the abrupt change of subject, Harry thought. “I did try to make it ages ago, before we were together,” he admitted, “but I – er – got distracted.” His face flamed and Severus knew that Harry had been distracted by thoughts of the man he was now with. It was rather flattering. “Next time, I wanted to make a half measure so that if I got it wrong I'd still have the ingredients to give it another go. But then I remembered Golpalott's First Law and, at that time, couldn't work out how to adjust the recipe.”

Severus slid his arms around Harry's back. “So explain Golpalott's First Law to me,” he whispered, lips kissing the beautiful neck.

Trembling at the sudden sensation, Harry clutched at his scattering thoughts. “Golpalott's First Law says that a potion that is reduced or increased from the standard recipe does not reduce or

increase in proportion with the amount of the increase or reduction.”

“And what does that mean?” Snape asked, his hands stroking under Harry's shirt, feeling the muscles in the back quiver at his touch.

“It – It means that to make, say, a potion that's only half a batch size you can't just divide the ingredients in half. You have to consider how the items interact to adjust the proportions correctly.”

“Right,” Severus murmured, sucking on a fleshy ear lobe and enjoying Harry's squirming, “so which ingredients are most likely to need adjusting if the recipe is altered?”

“I – I ...” Harry began and suddenly moaned, “Fuck me! Now! Please, please, now!”

Snape obeyed that command with alacrity, pushing the top off the smooth skin and undoing the trousers and shoving them down around Harry's thighs. Harry clawed for Snape's crotch and undid the zip there, tugging the cock free.

With a grunt, Severus shoved Harry against a wall and snagged one leg. Clutching onto the older man, Harry could only moan as the thick prick nudged up behind his balls and began its slow forceful ingress. It burned slightly, his body not having much oil left inside from activities undertaken during the previous night, but he tossed his head as the deep pain transmuted into a flame that set his nerves tingling and his balls tightening.

Severus stilled once he was buried inside and squeezed his eyes shut. Every single time he possessed Harry he felt that same weakness overcome him – that desperate longing and need for this wonderful man. And at the same time that raging need to claim the body and possess it thoroughly, painfully, permanently. He took a deep breath and pulled out before shoving back in.

One leg dangling, Harry wrapped it around Snape's waist and tried to move himself on the cock impaling him, but his position left him completely at Severus' mercy. He rather found he liked feeling like that; liked being a body for Snape to use as he wished. He pressed his lips against Severus' neck and whispered, “Please, please, move!”

Again the older man obeyed and rhythmically pounded the lithe younger man until they were both shaking with the need to release and achieve that blissful moment of blankness where there was nothing but the two of them.

“Please, Severus, please!” Harry begged, voice ragged with his need.

Feeling rather the same way himself, Snape could only groan his assent and thump his swollen length into the tight channel, losing his control and soaking Harry's insides with his hot liquid. That was all it took for Harry – feeling that hot splash within him; knowing it meant Severus had once again proven his claim. He threw his head back, nearly cracking it on the wall, and sobbed Severus' name as his cock spurted.

Still upright by some miracle, Snape could only gasp out Harry's name as his dark eyes saw sparks. Buried in the tight body, even after his climax, was a wonderful place to be, but it made him struggle for breath at the sheer intensity of the pleasure that coursed through him. He held onto Harry's weight as he eased out, checking between the thighs for any sign of damage. On occasions the two of them had got so carried away that Harry had torn, and the streaks of blood mixing with the semen that oozed out of his anus made Severus hate himself. This time there was just milky white fluid beginning to trail sluggishly out of the passageway.

He helped Harry regain his footing and zipped back up. Harry bent, wincing slightly as well used muscles protested, and drew on his clothing. When Harry was dressed, he slid into Severus' arms. “You're such a bad distraction,” he complained, kissing the man he adored, “I was trying to think through Golpalott's wretched First Law!”

Snape dropped his head and kissed Harry, claiming the mouth as thoroughly as he had claimed Harry's insides. “I didn't stop you thinking about the law,” he remarked, one hand rubbing soothingly at the perfect ass, “it was you, I recall, who begged to be taken.”

“No,” Harry corrected, “I told you to fuck me. And you did.” His ass clenched with pleasure at the thought of Snape within him.

“I'm not doing so now,” Severus said, “so why don't you work out the ratios for a smaller batch, and you can have a go at making the All Round Potion?”

Easter Sunday arrived.

Harry had practised the All Round Potion, under Snape's watchful eye (which often degenerated into passionate fucking) and on his own. After three attempts he had made an acceptable concoction, and Severus had handed him the recipe to a different potion and ordered him to work out the changes needed to create a larger dose.

It was time agreeably spent. The small laboratory at Spinner's End was really too confined for the two of them, and they idly talked about finding somewhere larger to work.

When Harry had dressed for lunch and kissed Severus goodbye, he made his way magically to the Burrow and knocked on the door. He felt a pang that he had to knock when in years past he had been just another one of the clan.

George opened the door and grinned warmly at him. “Hey, Harry!” He spoke loudly, then dropped his voice, “No boyfriend?”

Harry shook his head and crossed the threshold. Inside, there was still the same aura of chaos and homeliness that had so appealed to him, growing up in the frigid environment of Privet Drive. Now though, with his own house, and with a man he wanted to make a home with, he wasn't so envious of the Burrow's charms.

Ginny appeared at the the bottom of the stairs, her stomach just showing her condition. “Harry!” she hugged him warmly, which rather surprised him, and dragged him into the kitchen to meet the rest of the family.

The table was crammed with Weasleys and their various partners: Bill, Fleur (heavily pregnant), Percy, and next to him a slender prim-looking witch, then Charlie, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, George, a space, and finally the two Weasley parents. He smiled at the people he knew, still half expecting some nasty comment or jinx to be hurled his way, but none did. The space next to George was clearly for him and he filled it, glad to be sitting next to the one Weasley who genuinely liked him.

Mrs Weasley gave him a small smile as he settled next to her and he said quietly to her, “Thanks for inviting me, Mrs Weasley.”

Her smile broadened, but she made no suggestion that he call her Molly. “It's very nice to see you, Harry,” she replied, “Ron has kept us informed on how Auror training has been going.”

Harry blinked. Ron had told them about Harry's marks? He felt uncomfortable for some reason and grasped eagerly at the conversational rope Hermione handed him.

“Have you thought about what you'll do once you pass?” she asked, then clarified, “I mean, will you want to be an Auror forever, or maybe do something else?”

Harry considered. “I've wanted to be an Auror for ages, but I don't know that I'll want to do it my whole life. Maybe, after a few years, I could move into some of the offices, and, you know, do the background stuff while other, better, Aurors run around and actually catch the bad guys.” He paused, “That, or maybe make potions.”

She frowned at him. “You don't have the Half-Blood Prince's book any more, Harry!”

No, but I have the Half-Blood Prince, Harry thought rebelliously.

“I know. But I've been working with Se – Snape to become better at potions. At first it was to just do better at Auror training, but now I actually understand the magic behind it, I really like making potions.”

“What have you been working on?” That was Charlie.

“I've just got the ratios right for the All Round Potion, whatever batch size, and I've been applying what I've learnt to Pepper-Up Potion and the Befuddlement Draught.”

Hermione looked impressed. Of all of them, she understood best how difficult it was to vary a potion, and even she had never tried it.

“H – How's school going?” Harry asked as the silence began to stretch.

Then Hermione was off. She gabbled on about how wonderful it was to be back at Hogwarts, how much she was learning, how fantastic Arithmancy was, it went on and on...

“Oh, and Professor Mcgonagall made me Head Girl! Can you believe it?!” she finished, almost shrieking in her excitement. The rest of the family had clearly heard this several times since September and merely rolled their eyes.

“Wow, Hermione, that's brilliant! I can't think of any one more deserving!” Harry enthused, meaning it. Without her, he would have failed to destroy the horcruxes.

“Justin Finch-Fletchley is Head Boy,” she said, her tone making it clear she didn't think over much of the appointment.

“Oh? Justin returned to the school then?”

“Yes. Well, after all, he was denied his education whilst Voldemort was running amok. I think Professor Mcgonagall is making a point, having two 'Mudbloods' as Head Boy and Girl.”

“Don't call yourself that!” Harry cried, as did several of the Weasleys.

Hermione looked serenely at him. “What else do I call myself?”

Harry turned it over in his mind. True, there wasn't a term to describe someone like Hermione, other than the blunt and to the point 'Muggle born'. There was to describe the opposite... “Hang on, children who are non-magical born to magical parents are called 'Squibs' right? And you're the opposite, so how about 'Firework'?”

There was laughter around the table, but it was good-humoured.

“Firework?!” Hermione giggled.

Ron smiled at her. “I like it. You are like a firework, you know.”

Hermione gave him a private smile that embarrassed everyone else in the room. Slyly watching them, Harry felt a twinge in his stomach, he could never embarrass others like that as he'd never be able to share a private moment with Severus in public.

The food was delicious, as expected, and afterwards, some of the Weasleys settled on the soft chairs whilst Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and George wandered into the garden.

“Audrey seems nice,” Harry said. Audrey had been the quiet girl next to Percy, who clearly adored the uptight young man.

“Yeah, she's lovely,” Ron said casually. He kicked at a tuft of grass before drawing in a quick lungful of air. “Look, Harry, I know we train together, and we kind of get along, but things have been a bit shit between us cos of Ginny. Could we, you know, maybe start again?”

Harry's eyebrows rose. “Seriously, Ron? You want us to be friends again?”

“Well, yeah.” Ron mumbled something.

“What?”

“I miss you, okay? That's what I said!”
Harry felt his heart contract. “I've missed you too. You and Hermione.”

The witch glanced up from across the expanse of overgrown lawn and smiled at them both. “About time too!” she called, “You've both had quite enough of being mad at each other!”

“Don't you get tired of her always being right?” Harry asked curiously.

Ron shrugged. “I get used to it. It's easier not to argue, you know what she can be like.”

“Yeah. How's she getting on with SPEW and its successors?”

A grin split Ron's face at the mention of SPEW. “It's slow going, just cos it's law stuff and she's still studying for her NEWTs, and, of course she wants to get all Outstanding results, and then, when she does manage ten seconds of free time, I want to see her or get a letter from her.” He sighed, “she's always so busy!”

Harry nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. “Yeah, I get that.”

Ron opened his mouth as though to ask what had Harry so pensive, when Ginny came over and Ron made himself scarce. They must have previously discussed it, Harry realised, as usually Ron was utterly oblivious to things like the need for privacy or tact.

“Harry,” Ginny's voice was warm, and quite unexpectedly, Harry felt a rush of affection for her. It was the lingering last bit of liking he'd had for her back when they'd been dating. “I'm really glad you came today. I was so sure you'd say no after everything that's happened.” She pressed herself against him and Harry had the odd notion that she was trying to use her womanly wiles to manipulate him, and that she'd used them in the past on other men successfully. “I am so sorry I was rude to you, and tried to spread rumours...”

Harry didn't know how to react. On the one hand, she owed him an apology for her cruelness, but she had actually only spoken the truth, and her forcing it to his attention had made him finally understand that most crucial fact about who he was and who he wanted. He cleared his throat but said nothing.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she purred, one slender hand running over his arm.

“What?” he didn't push right away from her, but he made a gap between them.

She giggled flirtatiously and edged closer. “This baby of mine. People will wonder whose it is. If they see you with me they'll get the idea it's yours. And then the latest rumours that are flying around will stop, won't they?” She gazed into his angry and scared green eyes. “It helps us both out.”

Harry felt his rage burning. “What latest rumours?” he ground out.

“Oh, about you and Snape.” She looked amused, as if the very idea were too ridiculous for words.

“Me and … and Snape?” He whispered it, not trusting himself to speak any more loudly.

“Yes. There are lots of people saying you are far too friendly with him. And that maybe you were involved in Unnatural acts with him when you were at school.” Ginny's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she saw the horror in his face.

Not trusting himself to say anything in his fury and blind terror, Harry paced. He turned eyes glistening with unshed tears to her. “And these rumours,” he choked, “how many of them were started by you?”

She shrugged, not denying the accusation. “Just think of it, Harry. If the rumours get repeated often enough, it won't matter what you or Snape say, everyone will believe them. And, maybe, you and that Death Eater will be investigated. I'm sure you're hiding plenty.” She rubbed her belly, “How do you feel about Azkaban?”

Shaking, he stared blindly out over the grass. Ron and Hermione had vanished from view, no doubt enjoying a few minutes of privacy. George was meandering about, hands stuck in his pockets, a slump to his shoulders that told its own story. Tears trickled down Harry's face. He was never going to be free of the fear of Azkaban. What kind of life could he ever have if he could never admit this one key part about himself? And how long would it be before Severus grew tired of Harry's fear and walked away?

Harry had nightmares about Azkaban, but he never told Severus. He didn't want the other man to think he was regretting his choice, or worse, think Harry a coward and leave him. He dropped his head onto the wall of the house, lost in his shame and dread.

Ginny slid her arms around him and he shuddered and pulled free. Her eyes narrowed as he rejected her. “Your choice, Harry. Me, or everyone knowing the truth about you. Me, or Azkaban.”
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Harry Potter and the Expert Potions Master