Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

New Beginnings	By : VSBree Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15636 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights are reserved to J.K. Rowling and company. I am not receiving compensation for this fiction.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
AN: Hopefully this chapter answers some of the questions my reviewers had. I am hoping that I wrote Snape the way he appeared in the books; he was in love with Harry’s mom and seemed as though he was quite the romantic. Forgive me if I made this a much fluffier Snape than some of you like.
Warning: Be prepared for panting, punishment, and some serious fluffiness. Fluffy fluffy…everywhere!
Chapter Four
*
Merlin. Potter’s eyes had instantaneously dropped, and his shoulders had sagged with his admission.
Severus was NOT gay; he had been unaffected by the charms of many wizards who presumed he was. Draco and Lucius Malfoy. If there were two men he might have been tempted, as their appearances were nearly unrivaled in attraction, it would have been those two. However, he was never tempted to have any such relations. Certainly he had never viewed another wizard in the same light as he viewed Potter. There was no one with whom compared to his Potter.
This had seemed to cause a slight misunderstanding with the boy. It hardly mattered. Severus never intended to pursue the boy in such a way – or so he told himself repeatedly over the last couple days. Any relationship exceeding friendship could result in a great many wrongdoings. Severus was still undecided if the current emotions resulting from his being near Potter were attraction. It had been a very long time since Severus had entertained the idea of pursuing a love interest.
He scowled deeply. Pursuing Potter would no doubt prove a challenge. There was no doubt that the boy harbored an attraction for his person. The boy was still projecting his thoughts like he had in his school years. It was very clear in both Potter’s actions and responses that he felt some sort of, dare he say it, yearning towards Severus. He was no entirely sure if such a longing was due to Severus’ constant interaction with the boy as an elder figure in his life, or if it was deeper rooted and involved desires of the flesh. Severus was almost tempted to believe the latter because the former gave him an odd sensation in his gut.
Regardless, it would seem that these undesirable emotions swirling inside of him, boycotting his thoughts and actions, were slowly invaded into all out pursuits. If he kept the boy close, he would no doubt act upon them. Though Severus was practiced in his control – having served Dumbledore in secret with the Dark Lord all those years and remaining alive – this was proving to be the most challenging to that hard-wielded control he harbored.
He was finding that in exchange for the nearness and proximity of the boy, he would do or say just about anything – control and morals be damned. Conflicted, Severus merely sat side-by-side to the reason for his now uncontrollable urges, hoping and even praying to whatever deity might be listening to allow him this one favor of keeping the boy close.
*
Harry received a variant of tasks over the next couple of days, keeping him busy and away from Snape. It would seem the other wizard was rather busy himself because he never saw Snape when he would go to eat in the great hall with the others. He was barely able to contain the sigh of disappointment after he thoroughly searched the head table when he entered.
“Harry,” Oliver called, waving him over to a seat beside him. “Come sit with me.”
Harry had wanted to heed Snape’s warning, but he was desperate for conversation; so deciding that the public table would be a sufficient enough deterrent if Oliver decided to try anything, he sat down. “Hey, Oliver. I haven’t seen you the past few days,” Harry commented lightly.
Oliver’s face flushed as he rubbed sheepishly at the back of his head. “I, well, had a few issues…Nothing to worry about. Madam Pomfrey was able to fix it.”
Harry’s head tilted in confusion. “You were sick then?”
“Sort of.” Oliver seemed reluctant to elaborate and instead said, “So only another week before the students arrive. Are you nervous?”
“A little,” Harry admitted. “It will be hard to get them to focus the first week I’m sure.”
“Sure,” Oliver agreed. “You’re famous, Harry. I’m sure they will be excited to have you for their professor.”
Harry gave Oliver a look – a look that said this was in no way, shape or form a comfort to him.
Oliver Wood looked much of the same as he did during the time that Harry had known him in his first years at Hogwarts. Oliver’s light brown and similarly colored eyes were only part of his charm. The way the former Keeper’s smile was as enchanting as his looks were. It would come on both suddenly and brightly, causing Harry’s heart to uncontrollably flutter. Oliver was much taller than Harry, by several inches, and roping in muscle after playing a few years as Keeper on the Puddlemere Reserves.
Harry was rather envious of Oliver’s classically handsome features. Harry was hardly attractive; he was only sought after due to his taking down one of the most feared wizards of all time. His popularity in the wizarding world made it nearly impossible for him to date – not that he had entertained the idea until Snape.
Though the other wizard was without flaw when it came to physical charms, Harry didn’t have those unbearable emotions he usually suffered when with Snape. The comparison would be similar to how one would feel over a simple attraction as opposed to being completely, utterly in love.
No. It was enough to be beside Snape. Harry fisted his hands, chanting his mantra and receiving a confused stare from Oliver who sat watching him for a time while he did this.
“Are you really that worried about it?” Oliver finally asked after Harry had been silently talking to himself for several long minutes.
Harry snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, not really.”
“Well that’s all well and good then, Harry. Are you free this evening?”
“Mister Potter is otherwise engaged this evening, Wood,” said a deep, resonating baritone that nearly caused Harry’s body to hum with unresolved desire. Harry shifted his eyes away, Oliver’s having widened in both surprise and fear, and turned towards the voice now interrupting their pleasant conversation.
“Is that so?” Oliver asked. “Then maybe afterwards?”
Harry was about to speak but was immediately interrupted by Snape’s quick rejection. “I am afraid that our engagement will take us well into the evening,” the man’s voice was nearly hissing. “Is that not so, Professor Potter?”
“Oh, um, yeah,” he said slowly. He hadn’t made plans with Snape. He had barely seen the man in the last several days.
“I was told you were unwell, Mister Wood,” Snape inquired to which Oliver became very pale. “It would be wise to rest should you have symptoms return. It would be quite the travesty should you be bedridden for another week, do you not agree?”
Oliver stood at this, nodding briefly to them, before leaving the dining hall. Harry turned towards Snape, his face drawn down in his perplexity. “What was that about?”
“I am not at liberty to say,” Snape dismissed before taking the chair that Oliver had once occupied. “It was my wish to address a few things before the beginning of the school year. Be in my quarters this evening at six if that deems satisfactory.”
“Oh, sure.” Harry was just relieved that he could see Snape, let alone spend time with him.
Harry had thought that Snape would stalk away in a billow of robes as soon as his business was finished, but to his surprise, Snape began to eat lunch with his superior manners and continued to for the remainder of the time Harry was there. Harry barely managed to keep the smile from his face, flattered that Snape had sought him out and was even content with being seen in public with Harry.
Many of the other professors attempted small conversation, but every time they did, Snape would always find something to interrupt all attempts made towards Harry. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought the older wizard jealous. But that was impossible. Snape had been clear when he said he wasn’t gay.
*
Harry arrived at Snape’s quarters earlier than he intended. Since they had been busy over the past few days, Harry was nearly undone by his nerves at the prospect of spending time with Snape again. Now that Snape knew his little secret, Harry was increasingly anxious at being alone with him.
Promising to never drink Fire Whiskey with anyone, Harry knocked softly on the door. It was lucky that Snape was comfortable with his disclosure, but there were very few that would be. Although, Snape had said that homosexuality was fairly common in the wizarding society, whatever that meant. Harry wasn’t quite sure how he felt. He had never kissed, touched, or otherwise by another bloke, so his understanding of it was limited.
He had fantasized, sure. Many of those fantasies woke him in the early hours of the morning, covered head to toe in perspiration and sporting a tent in his trousers that almost always needed tending to directly afterwards. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to have sex, but his sexual experience was limited just to his right hand.
He fantasized about Snape often without fully intending to. When he imagined what those delicate, beautifully crafted hands could do to his body, illicit with just a simple touch or caress, Harry was almost always hard by the end of pondering the possibilities.
Though he would very rarely allow himself to fantasize in broad daylight, there were times where it was out of his control. Today was a prime example. He had watched with intense interest as Snape swallowed and delicately navigated his plate of food. He imagined the man’s mouth, instead of savoring a piece of food, was actually savoring the taste of Harry’s own lips. Harry had barely managed to shake away such thoughts and focus on his own food. But every so often, his mind would once more stray to the man’s hands, or his lips as they moved with graceful ease, or even the way Snape’s body would shift as he would readjust in his chair.
Harry sighed with frustration. It was only going to make things worse if he kept allowing his mind to wander around the other wizard. While he was sure Snape would not intentionally read his thoughts, he was sure he’d reveal many of his thoughts just on his face alone.
The door clicked open, and he crossed the threshold with a firm resolve. He wouldn’t allow his fantasies to control him. Using his entry as a way to discard his feelings for the other wizard, Harry stepped into his new resolve.
“Hello Severus,” Harry greeted as he took his usual place on the couch nearest the man’s favored armchair.
Severus grunted his greeting before returning to the book he was reading. Harry sunk back into the couch, making himself comfortable and steeling his nerves. He ignored the low illumination that caused a soft glow to irradiate Snape’s features in an alarmingly sexy manner. He kept his gaze to the flames, doing his best to ignore the way the man’s hands skimmed over the pages of his journal, mumbling quietly to himself.
He bit his lower lip, fumbling with the hem of his shirt as he patiently waited for Snape to finish whatever he was reading. It was minutes before the sound of a book closing and robes shifting as Snape readjusted in the armchair.
“You are rather quiet, Potter.”
Harry licked his lips, anticipating his heart to flutter as soon as he looked towards Snape. It did. It pounded heavily despite his earlier affirmation, and he nearly groaned with frustration. “Just enjoying the quiet before the storm, Severus.” His eyes wandered towards the other wizard’s, catching a momentary glint as a result of his admission.
“Indeed,” Snape agreed with a small upturn of his lip. “The chattering and nattering of imbeciles is due without fail as soon as the school year begins. Be assured that time does not, in fact, lessen the displeasure of petulant brats.”
Harry chuckled softly, nodding slightly. “I know. Remember, I use to be one of them.”
“Still very much are, Potter.”
“Git.”
“Intolerable brat.”
Harry smiled as the other man stood and took a couple of glasses from a cabinet near the fire hearth. He poured an amber liquid into both and offered the first to Harry.
“I thought you said you would never give me alcohol again,” Harry inquired curiously but took the proffered drink.
Snape took a seat beside him, leaving very little distance between them before swirling the liquid in his own glass. “As long as you are not overcome by the desire to swallow the amount whole, you can manage a glass, Potter.”
Harry smelled the liquid experimentally, cringing at the burn it gave his nostrils. “Not really sure I’d ever have the inclination to do that again, anyway.” Harry took a small sip of the liquid, cringing once more as it burned a pathway down his throat but finding that he quite enjoyed warmth it gave to his belly. Licking his lips of the remaining liquid, he turned towards Snape. His heart started in his chest at the intense gaze of those dark, fathomless obsidian depths.
“How do you find it?”
Harry shrugged, ignoring the discomfort of the close proximity and what it was doing to his previous resolve. “Not bad. It tastes like poison, but the warm feeling afterwards is quite nice.”
Snape’s lips quirked again. “Have you much experience with the taste of poison, Potter?”
Harry grinned mischievously as he asked, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
They fell silent, sipping gingerly at their drinks in companionable silence. Harry was trying his best to ignore how the warmth of both his drink and Snape’s body were sending his pulse into overdrive. Glad for something other than the other man to focus on, he watched the flames as they danced and coiled and crackled.
“Wood seems to be quite persistent to keep company with you,” Snape said nonchalantly as he took another sip from his glass.
Harry breathed out his nerves, ignoring the near shock of Snape’s leg shifting against his own. They were much closer now, and Harry was finding it harder to keep his focus solely to the flames. The man’s mere presence was powerful; it was as if the older wizard’s magic was touching and sparking alongside his own. The close proximity was electric. He was slowly losing every bit of resolve he had mustered coming in here.
Harry had remained silent, never truly responding to Snape’s comment. Breathing had become laborious. He was drinking a bit more eagerly to replace the growing need to touch the other man.
“Potter,” Snape called as Harry was almost gulping down the remainder of his drink. “Harry,” the older wizard corrected, causing Harry to stall in his drinking. Harry’s head jerked towards the other man, a question in his eyes that never fully formed into words because his lips were suddenly covered in a warmth that was not his own.
The resulting gasp was swallowed into Snape’s mouth as the older wizard took advantage of the movement by deepening the kiss. Harry was frozen in surprise as the kiss continued. Despite his utter bemusement, he was almost instantly encircling Snape’s neck and pressing into the kiss. It tasted of Fire Whiskey and butterscotch candies – mildly surprising to Harry since he never knew that Snape had a sweet tooth. His heart raced dangerously in his chest as his tongue hesitantly slid against Snape’s, causing the other wizard to groan and pull Harry tightly against himself.
Harry gasped, having to pull away for air. His vision swayed as he tried to focus on the other, fully intending to demand why he had done it. However, before he could, Snape was once more covering his lips and eliciting groans of need from Harry. It felt like a dream. His body was growing hot as the intensity of the passionate exchange became almost too much for Harry.
Harry slid his fingers into the man’s silky locks, memorizing the texture and roaming through it with idle interest. Harry’s body was starting to respond on its own, moving against the elder wizard’s body, rubbing and gyrating in attempts of satisfying an urge for something, anything that could fulfill this growing need inside him.
He was pressed backward and laid out with the taller man straddling his smaller form. One of Snape’s hands curled around his neck and through his hair, pulling his locks and angling him into the kiss. The other hand roamed his chest, caressing and pulling at his shirt as if intending to rip it from his body. He was panting when Snape finally pulled away from his mouth. Worry welled up inside of him, expecting the older man to catch himself. However, his worry disappeared the instant that hot lips touched against his neck.
“Merlin,” Harry gasped breathlessly.
Snape’s hand slid beneath the material of his shirt, causing him to arch and groan with the new sensation it created. There was no comparison to the sensations Snape was giving him. The light-headedness caused by the alcohol was also causing his senses to feel more intensely; or so he would think, but this was his first real experience. And it was with Snape. Snape, who had told him only days before that he was not gay, was now touching him with little to no hesitation.
Harry’s brain caught up with him, and he found himself pushing the other wizard away. “Wait,” he commanded despite his panting.
Snape had become rigid. He pulled away and nearly caused Harry to groan with disappointment. Harry shook away the pleasure haze and watched the other man thoughtfully. “What are you doing? I thought…you said you weren’t gay.”
Snape’s face had become hard as though he was fully intending to keep the reason behind his actions to himself. However, he answered Harry. “I am not gay.” Harry’s eyes narrowed angrily. “I am not attracted to wizards. However, I am unable to fully comprehend these desires I have for you.”
Harry’s anger melted into surprise and then confusion. So, Snape was not gay, but he was attracted to Harry – enough so that he would kiss and touch him with intent to…well, to do things you do with someone you had feelings for.
“I don’t understand,” Harry whispered honestly. “I…you told me that you weren’t gay, so I thought you were trying to tell me, you know, that I shouldn’t have feelings for you.”
“That was my intention,” Snape disclosed evenly. Snape pulled away entirely, situating himself away from Harry and effectively ending the previous mood they were drawn into.
Harry had to keep himself from pouting in disappointment. Even though the last fifteen minutes had been the most amazing fifteen minutes of his entire life, he didn’t want to start something that couldn’t be finished with Snape. It would defeat the purpose of trying, unsuccessfully, to give up his feelings for Snape. He wanted a real relationship with the other man and would not settle for less – Ginny and Hermione would kill him if he did.
“So you don’t want this?” Harry asked, doing his best to keep the hurt from his voice. “I mean, that makes sense. You have never really felt like this for—“ His words were cut off by the firm mouth he immediately recognized after having spent the last fifteen minutes getting to know it very, very intimately. He gasped as the other wizard pulled him upwards and tightly into himself, expressing his feelings in only the few minutes their mouths were pressed together.
Snape pulled away from the slightly breathless Harry. “I am not experienced in relationships, Harry. I am a man that has spent many years alone and contently so. I do not pursue the pleasures of the flesh simply to satisfy a momentary urge. I may not be kind, or attractive, or worthy of your affections, but I cannot disregard these affections I have for you.” Snape seemed to scowl at his last statement before continuing, “I cannot allow you to seek another. I am a selfish man, Harry. When I desire of something, I will do whatever is in my power to acquire it.”
Harry’s heart was out of control and nearly breaking from his chest. He was close to tears but held fast as he listened intently for Snape to finish. “I cannot promise you romance or that I will not cause you frustration in the future, but if you decide it worth the effort, I would like it very much if you consider me a potential partner.”
Holy hell. Harry slapped his cheeks to see if he was dreaming. When the pain registered, Harry’s eyes nearly overflowed with tears. “Yes,” Harry nearly sobbed out. “Please. I…yes.” He felt the soft touch of Snape’s lips before he was nearly painting himself into the other. It was long minutes before Snape pulled away. Harry almost whimpered but was able to control the urge.
“I think it best if you returned to your quarters,” Snape said without an expression to give away his intention.
“What? Why?”
Snape’s hand cupped Harry’s chin, and he ran his thumb over the kiss-swollen lips. “It is not wise to rush into the physical pleasures. There are only a few more days separating us from the swarm of brats, so it would be wise to stop here for the evening.”
Harry flushed with frustration. They were finally together in a way that Harry never believed possible and Snape wanted to stop? “I don’t care.”
Snape gave Harry a disapproving look. “You are young. It is for the best that I send you away.” Harry groaned, biting his lower lip and balling his hands into fists. “As unwilling as I am to admit it, this is a new experience for both of us.”
Harry realized suddenly just what it was Snape was hinting towards. Snape didn’t know what to do. Snape was inexperienced like Harry in regards of homosexual relationships. Harry almost laughed. “You mean, you plan to do some research?”
Snape’s jaw grew taut, and he straightened as if insulted. Harry gave him an apologetic look. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll come round tomorrow, yeah?”
“Very well.” The man still looked rather irritated but accompanied Harry to the fire and met Harry for the small goodbye kiss he leaned up for. “Oh and Harry,” Snape called just before Harry stepped into the floo, “you would do well to keep your conversations with Wood brief and superficial. I should not be held accountable for anything that may befall his person if you were to do otherwise.” That definitely sounded like a threat and sort of made him wonder if Oliver’s recent illness was as a result of something Snape did.
“Possessive git,” he said smiling.
Snape’s face remained impassive. “Impertinent brat.”
*
Harry had a hard time focusing most of the next day; his thoughts were always straying. He had managed to stay focused long enough to send a few letters to Ginny, Hermione, and Ron. He wanted to tell Ginny and Hermione all about what had happened, but since it was still fairly new, he worried what it would mean if he should put it all down on parchment.
He wasn’t totally convinced last night hadn’t been a dream. It was surreal to think that Snape returned his affections, and enough so that he would want to be in a relationship with Harry. It was hard to believe that he could call what transpired the starting of a love relationship. The word didn’t quite mesh with the dour Potion’s Master.
The kiss had been everything he could have possibly imagined and more. It had been intense and pleasurable. It still gave him shivers to think about. After the kiss, there was no doubt that he was flaming poof. He had enjoyed every touch, every taste to the point of needing, wanting for more. Snape was twenty years his senior and vastly experienced with kissing. It had shown. It would seem that Snape was a master of a many great things – kissing being one of them.
It was slightly frustrating that Harry was so inexperienced with everything. While this would be both of their first times with another wizard, Snape still had former relations with witches. At least, Harry believed so. He still wasn’t quite sure what the man meant when he said he didn’t give into momentary urges of the flesh. Although after being sent away, Harry knew Snape was in a hell of a lot more control of his urges than Harry was. He had to wank off as soon as he got back to his room.
Harry missed his mouth as he thought, spilling food all over the front of his shirt.
“You seem a little out of sorts today, Harry,” Oliver laughed as he helped wipe away the food.
Harry recovered enough to sheepishly wipe away the food in place of Oliver. Snape wasn’t dining in the Great Hall today, but Harry was worried that he could show at any time, and then Oliver might end up sick and in the infirmary until school began.
“Yeah,” he replied as he finally sorted himself out. “Guess I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“It’s hard to think that we will be the ones teaching as opposed to learning,” Oliver replied with a smile. “I never envisioned I’d become a professor here, but I am really glad that I can work with you.” Oliver smiled enchantingly at him before Harry was stiffening at the sight of Snape. “Looks like Professor Snape decided to come out of the dungeons. You two seem close. I thought you didn’t like each other.”
Harry watched the older wizard as he made his way to the head table, his expression devoid of anything but bored regard to those that greeted him. Harry almost started to believe the night before was really a dream until the black eyes connected with his and sent his heartrate soaring. The small glisten warned him as Oliver continued on beside him.
“I know he was always targeting you,” Oliver said with a twinge of frustration. “Still the same as he was then.”
“Well we came to an understanding,” Harry argued as Snape took a seat beside him. His back straightened when the touch of a hand to his thigh sparked a shiver to run the length of his spine. “Um…hello Severus.”
“Harry. Wood,” Snape greeted coolly. The hand on Harry’s thigh tightened before slowly sliding upwards. Harry’s breath caught. “Reminiscing of your days at Hogwarts, perhaps?”
“Uh,” Harry breathed, finding it hard to focus with Snape’s hand moving with intent to make him brainless. “Sort of. What have you been doing?” The hand trailed precariously close to his hardening crotch but stopped just short of it, causing Harry to breathe in deeply.
“Replenishing Madam Pomfrey’s stores,” Snape responded lightly. “If you are finished with your business today, I require another set of hands to complete the task.” The hand squeezed once more, and Harry had barely managed to suppress the groan of need.
“S-sure,” he stuttered.
Oliver watched to the two of them before standing. “I hope we can get together before the students arrive. Let me know when you’re free, Harry.” The other wizard left, and Harry could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“Um,” Harry started with a whisper, “your hand.” Snape’s hand squeezed again, causing Harry to intake sharply.
“I am afraid I do not know of what you speak, Harry,” Snape responded in a deep, seductive timber. “Did you require something from my hand?”
“Y-you know I don’t,” Harry growled, looking around to make sure no one was watching. “Remove it, Severus.”
Snape’s hand trailed over the hardening tent in Harry’s trousers, rubbing it and causing Harry to suck in the air around him as if suddenly unable to breathe. Snape’s voice was low and whispering almost sweetly as he inquired, “What would Wood think if he knew the indecent blush on your cheeks was the result of my hand, hm?”
Harry was almost panting, stiffening as the touch became firmer against him. His body shivered with the derived pleasure the touch created. Mouth dry, breathing coming out in short pants, and eyes fluttering, Harry almost forgot they were in public, surrounded by their colleagues. Dear Merlin. He gasped as Snape’s hand deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, sliding easily inside to touch his length with only a thin layer to separate it. Those long fingers easily played him like a well-tuned violin, pleasuring him in ways he could never have achieved with his own hand.
Harry clasped the table before him, desperately seeking stability as his body was wracked with pleasurable waves. Snape’s hand was firm, touching him with full intent to make Harry come right here in public. He wanted to stop the man, get angry, accuse him of humiliating him, but the sensations were unbelievably intoxicating. His lower belly was tightening with the oncoming orgasm, and Harry could do nothing to stop it.
Snape had snuck his hand between the small opening in the material and ran a thumb over the wet slit of Harry’s prick. That was Harry’s undoing. He stiffened, coming in hard spurts but managing to keep his voice withheld as he bit his lower lip until it bled. Snape was quick, his wand easily disappearing all evidence and neatly, efficiently tucked Harry back into his trousers before he stood.
“I will expect you as soon as you are finished,” Snape said with a small amused glint in his eyes.
Snape left Harry at the head table to wallow in the afterglow of his orgasm and shame that it had all been done in public. Granted, many of the professors had left, but there were a few that remained. One of them being the Headmistress. She smiled over at Harry.
“It is nice of you to assist Severus with the potions,” she said graciously. Harry had to keep the blush from his face, but he was still breathing rather hard.
“He’s done me so many favors,” Harry tried to say evenly, but his voice was still rather breathless. “I probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.” He regained feeling in his legs and headed towards the dungeons albeit a bit shakily.
He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. He wanted to be angry. Snape had basically humiliated him, but it had felt incredible. Harry wondered if that meant he actually enjoyed the possibility of getting found out. Oh Merlin. He wasn’t liking these new discoveries about himself. Snape was making him into a person he barely recognized.
TBC
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New Beginnings