Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

One Thousand Days	By : Ataraxia Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 7793 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise and do not profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Warning: There is about to be some fairly rough sex, and it is a non-Harry/Severus pairing. If that upsets you in anyway, skip to below the break and continue on.

Draco cried out in astonishment as his mouth was assaulted by Harry’s lips and tongue; the force of the encounter causing him to stumble back into his rooms and trip backwards onto the sofa.   Harry was on him like a werewolf on a rabbit; all wild eyes and gnashing teeth.

Draco was terrified.

He didn’t even have time to process what was happening. Large hands were tearing at his hair, forcing his face into Harry’s, while an urgent tongue pried his lips apart. He could feel strong legs pinning him to the sofa, rendering him utterly incapable of breaking free.   Harry growled fiercely and pulled his hands out of Draco’s platinum locks just long enough to start frantically tugging at his own clothes.   He seized his earth smeared t-shirt by the hem and pulled it over his dark head, revealing a chest that was toned and browned from hard outdoor labour.

In a moment of panic, Draco grabbed Potter’s hands and wrestled them to his sides. “Harry-” he began, uncertainly. His heart was pounding. Grey eyes searched green as Draco sought to understand exactly what had gotten in to the other man.

Harry’s mouth hung open slightly as his breaths came fast and heavy.

“Do you want me?” The question was uttered in a low, savage tone as the predator sized up his prey.

Draco stared at his friend in disbelief, a thousand questions running through his testosterone-addled mind. The need to know why Harry was there, why he suddenly wanted him, was all washed away as the other man’s erection dug into his thigh.

With a groan of abandon he answered Harry with a savage bite to the neck.

The tryst was a blur of tangled limbs and naked flesh, of lips and tongues and teeth. Draco was unused to submission but relented to Harry’s command eagerly as the dark haired man exerted his control. Strong hands bruised his pale flesh as Harry grabbed him by the hips and flipped him over, forcing Draco’s stomach into the back of the leather sofa. Harry grunted as he forced Draco’s legs open, settling himself roughly between his lean thighs. Bronzed flesh pressed against porcelain as Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s neck, settling the elegant throat into the crook of his elbow, roughly.

The blonde felt Harry slick something on himself before plunging his thick cock into the tight arse in front of him, with no preparation other than the hastily applied lube.

Draco’s breath escaped him as a sharp hiss as he tried to ignore the pain.

It was blinding.

His body tried desperately to accommodate the huge prick that had been so forcefully shoved into it, but it was difficult, and Harry wasn’t exactly being gentle about it. Slowly, his body relented and his muscles relaxed, allowing the thick cock to slide in and out of it more easily.   He moaned in pleasure as the pain began to subside.

Harry’s wordless grunts and groans rushed into Draco’s ear, causing gooseflesh to rise on his scalp. He gasped in delirious ecstasy as Harry’s warm, firm hand reached around his lover and manually coaxed him to his finish.   Draco could tell Harry was close, as the arm around his slender neck began to tighten discernibly. Gasping, he lost himself in the raw power of the man behind him, whimpering with every rough thrust and stroke.

Draco’s vision exploded into a burst of light as he let out a final cry and expelled himself on the back of the sofa, Harry following suit with a savage groan.   The arm around his neck slackened as Harry collapsed onto him, his sweat slicked chest heaving against Draco’s pale back.

They lay there, draped across the sofa panting in unison as they fought to regain their breath.

Draco looked over his shoulder at the man behind him, a myriad of expressions contorting his flushed face.

~*~*~

Harry froze as the haze of euphoria dimmed and faded away. He looked down at the sweat-slicked, bruised body of his friend and swore.

“Merlin, Draco, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, releasing the lithe form that was pinned underneath him. Sitting back, he took stock of the innumerable contusions that marred the perfectly pale skin of his companion and grimaced in sympathy and embarrassment.

Draco cringed and turned over, seating himself carefully on the damp leather.   His steel-grey eyes scrutinized Harry from beneath a sweat-soaked fringe as Draco chose his next words carefully. “So, are you going to tell me what that was?” he asked softly.

Harry looked down at his trembling hands and slowly turned them over, as if somehow the lines that snaked across his palm held the answer. They didn’t. He exhaled slowly, searching for words.

Draco laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he gazed at the fire absently. “I know you think it was a mistake, Harry, so no need to explain I suppose.” He rubbed at his throat gingerly, wondering if Harry had managed to leave a bruise.

“I had a rough night-” Harry began lamely.

“And the solution to a rough night is to knock on your mate’s door at three in the morning and defile him on the sofa, is it?” The firelight shimmered on Draco’s damp skin as he stood up and made to find his discarded shorts. After locating them on the mantle, he pulled them on and headed to the kitchenette, where he procured two snifters of brandy. Handing one to Harry, he sat back down on the couch and waited expectantly.

Mumbling his thanks, Harry took a sip of the amber liquid, allowing it to warm his insides which suddenly felt frozen solid. He looked at Draco apologetically, “I’m sorry, Draco. I completely took advantage of you.” Grimacing, he reached out and traced a bruise on the blonde man’s shoulder.

Draco shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “A standing prick’s got no conscience. I could have closed the door on you, or simply not answered in the first place, Harry.” He paused and allowed a cruel smirk to cross his lips. “Or I could have transfigured your prick off, but I didn’t.”

“Thanks for that,” Harry chuckled, managing a weak smile.

They sat in intimate silence.

~*~*~

Someone was crocheting his insides into a Christmas jumper, it was the only possible explanation for the way Severus felt. His head was reeling and light had somehow obtained the ability to puncture his skull, leaving spaces for all the horribless to get in. Severus groaned in disgust as the smell of raw meat invaded his nostrils and he realized he had part of a dead animal on his face. He turned his head to the left as his stomach began to retch, but he had nothing to regurgitate except bitter yellow bile.

Frailty, thy name is Severus.

He moaned in revulsion as a bloody steak fell off his face into the puddle of vomit; he nearly puked again when a large dog came into his field of vision and attempted to steal the chunk of soiled meat.

“Fang, don’ you dare!” bellowed Hagrid.

Why is Hagrid here? Where in the blazes am I?

Forcing his reluctant eyelids open, Severus stared into the large bearded face looming over him. He shielded his eyes with his hands and squinted as the sun’s evil rays penetrated his vision. Peering around, he recognized the collection of large furniture and rough wooden walls.

Perplexing. “Hagrid, why am I in your cottage? Furthermore, why is Miss Granger in your cottage?” Hermione was standing beside the worn, overstuffed chair Severus was found himself draped across. She thrust a mug of steaming liquid into his trembling hands.

“Ginger tea,” she explained, “I can’t give you a Pepper-Up potion, but this might take the edge off your hangover.”

Severus’ brow furrowed in confusion as he took the mug of spicy, translucent tea, doubting very much that his traitorous stomach would accept the offering. “Hangover. Indeed, I seem to recall having a drink or two last night.”

From his seat across the room, Hagrid roared with laughter, slapping his large thigh merrily. “A drink? From what I hear, you were stumbling yer way down the corridors at the wee hours, making conversation with gargoyles.”

That sounded frighteningly familiar.

He glanced back and forth from Hagrid to Hermione “Perhaps I may have...overindulged. Why am I here and why can’t I open my eye?” He had just realized that his left eye seemed to be painfully swollen.

“Hagrid found you on the floor of Harry’s cottage this morning with a hell of a shiner,” Hermione explained, pouring herself and the half-giant each a cup of the ginger tea. “It appears that you and Harry may have had an altercation.”

Severus’s good eye went wide with alarm. Frantically, he scoured his memory for any recollection of the event. He remembered the infernal gargoyle and a desperate urge to ride a motorbike. Ahh, yes, that was the reason he had come out to see Hagrid, wasn’t it? It seemed to be. He tried to patch together the random fragments of memories that were hiding in his foggy brain.

“ Merlin, I have no idea.” he said, truthfully. “I barely remember leaving the castle.” His stomach lurched, but this time Severus was pretty sure that it wasn’t a result of the previous night’s immoderation. What could he have said to the boy that nearly made him break his eye socket?

He swallowed the aromatic tea, cursing to himself inwardly.

The walk back to the castle was painful in a variety of ways. He’d never been one for sunlight, really, and this morning reminded him why. In the bright light of day, his previous evening’s adventure just seemed that much more humiliating. Thankfully, it was Saturday, and the empty halls assured him that no-one would bear witness to his walk of shame.

He followed Hermione down the halls of the castle, still desperately seeking information about the previous night’s encounter with a certain former Gryffindor. Flimsy memories of enraged green eyes flashed through his mind, but he couldn’t remember any further details.

Hermione’s voice jerked him out of his moment of confusion and self-loathing.

“There’s Harry,” she hissed.

Severus’s head snapped to attention as he looked down the hall. Sure enough, the Gryffindor in question was ahead of them, seemingly leaving one of the teachers’ residences. Severus squinted his good eye for a better look. The sight halted Severus in his tracks as if his boots were riveted to the floor. Harry looked incredibly dishevelled; his hair was a mess, his clothes crooked and one of his boots was untied. Beside him stood a similarly unkempt Draco who was seeing Harry off with an overly friendly hug.

They looked freshly shagged.

Suddenly aware of the intruders in the hallway, Draco and Harry both looked up suddenly. Even from this distance, Severus could see Harry blanch. His green eyes flicked up to the angry black bruise that covered nearly half of Severus’ face, and he rubbed his knuckles reflexively.

The two stood at an impasse, neither sure who should make the first move, or where that move should be. Severus was keenly aware that both Draco and Hermione were watching the tableau raptly; he could sense they were both holding their breaths.

Fuck it.

If there was one thing Severus was not willing to sacrifice any more of, it was his pride. He stormed away from the clandestine lovers, dragging Granger by the arm.

“Hey!” Hermione cried in protest, “I thought you wanted to talk to him? You don’t even know what happened last night!” She ran down the hall, struggling to keep up with the long strides of her infuriated professor.

The rubber soles of Severus’ boots made no sound on the slate floor as he stormed to her office. “It’s doesn’t matter what happened last night, Granger. It seems dear Mr. Draco was able to kiss it all better” he spat, acidly. The thought made bile rise into his throat for what felt like the hundredth time today.

Hermione jerked back, throwing the large man off balance. “You’re being ridiculous, Severus!”

“Professor,” he corrected with a trademark snarl, drawing himself up to his full height and glaring down his crooked nose at the girl.

Hermione stared right back at him, unflinching.   “Right now you’re not a professor, you’re just a hungover arsehole who’s leaping to conclusions like some kind of jealous, teenage girl. Now sit DOWN!”

Her tone was so absolutely furious that Severus found himself dutifully plopping onto a chair in her office. He shirked away from the girl as if the rage emanating from her might scorch his flesh. With the alcohol still lurking in his bloodstream, it was more probable that he’d burst into flames

“You know, I have a new hypothesis about where your magic may have gone,” she began, watching as he perked up slightly in his seat. “...but you’ll not hear it until we hash this ridiculous mess out.”

She smirked at his vain attempt to fix her with his most withering glare.

Tone clipped and professional, Hermione continued her self-righteous, utterly condescending diatribe. “You and Harry need to get the hell over this nonsense. It’s a tremendous waste of everybody’s time and frankly, I don’t have the energy to deal with either of you. Nor does anyone else, I’m sure. You’re both being utterly ridiculous.” She flapped her hands in exasperation, “Frankly, you owe Harry an apology. He owes you the opportunity to offer said apology. This is not going to happen if you suffer a juvenile outburst every time you see him in the hall.”

The corners of Severus’ mouth twitched as they began to twist into his familiar sneer.

“Don’t even think about sneering at me.” she glared.

He rolled his eyes instead. “I believe that the evidence of last night’s transgressions indicates that Mister Potter should be apologizing to me.” Severus attempted to speak with conviction, but the words dripped out of his lips lamely and landed in an unconvincing pile of drivel. How embarrassing.

Hermione fixed him with a steely glare that he found surprisingly intimidating, but said nothing.

“Gods, Granger, what would you have me do? I can’t apologize to him; I don’t even know what happened. If you could manage to scrape the remnants of my powers off of whatever dead reptile you’ve got squirreled away, perhaps I could use legilimency to figure it out, but as it stands I’m as likely able to see into his testosterone-addled mind as I am to don a tu-tu and perform the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy”. He scoffed at the thought.

Hermione peered at him questioningly. “Severus, my ‘scraping up’ your magic isn’t going to help you there; you can’t use Legilimency on Harry. He’d just Occlude you.”

Severus laughed, a rich full deep laugh, for the first time in weeks. Wiping a tear from an onyx eyes, he glanced up at the puzzled girl with a derisive smirk. “Granger, you never fail to amuse me. You and I both know that Harry Potter couldn’t Occlude a gerbil. “

Composing himself again, he curiously noted the expression of realization that crept across her youthful features.

“Oh, I suppose nobody told you that, either, did they?” she said evenly.

The things that people had forgotten to tell Severus could fill Gringotts, it seems. “Tell me what, Granger?” he asked with annoyance.

The bushy haired-girl regarded him calmly. “Harry’s become a master Occlumens”.

Time stopped briefly as the ridiculous words hung in the air between them. Finally Severus spoke. “Impossible,” he scoffed, turning to pick lint off his cuff as if bored with this inane conversation. It was utterly asinine; Severus had once purged the depths of the boys mind as if he were approximately as profound as a disposable kiddie pool. Perhaps even one that was half empty.

Hermione shrugged and turned to look at her work, obviously unconcerned with her ability to convince him. She sighed, but with a small, quick smile gracing her lips, “Well, you’ll see for yourself at some point, I’m sure. I have another lead on your little problem.”

Looking up from the lint on his sleeve, Severus raised one perfectly arched brow. “Oh?”

Smugly, Hermione grinned at her crusty former professor. “Well, if the sword didn’t pan out, we can only assume that your magic was conducted into the closest thing to it when Nagini was slain.”

Severus’s jaw dropped with an audible pop as he made the connection.

“You aren’t seriously suggesting that my powers were absorbed by Longbottom?”
- 3
- 4
- 5
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

One Thousand Days