Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Way of the Patronus	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15104 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in anyway, shape or form. The rights of such belong solely to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money or accrue any monetary benefit on this story.

Chapter List
- 4
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- 6
Silver deer cavorted, bringing surges of concupiscence too animalistic to be combated. Images of a black-haired imp flowed through his dreams. Hands, fingers and lips stroked him just as he loved to be touched, rousing his body again and again.
He started awake, grimacing at the stickiness he could feel over his thighs. This was getting ridiculous. No matter how glad he was that all his parts were in working order, it was still a damned nuisance cleaning himself up night after night.
Severus sighed and flung aside the covers, muttering “Tergeo.” It would be impossible to get back to sleep right now. He might as well find something to occupy his mind until proper exhaustion claimed him. Perhaps then he could sleep without interruption from puerile fantasies.
He shrugged on a robe and retired to the bathroom, forcing himself to think about his upcoming classes rather than the slippery slope he was currently embarked upon.
He had asked to head DADA every year that he’d been teaching at Hogwarts. In the beginning, Dumbledore had explained to him why it wouldn’t be prudent for him to head that class. Voldemort would expect him to teach deadly arts to children, training them to be future Death Eaters, and that was something the Headmaster would never countenance.
Besides, the ancient Gryffindor had confided that the position had been cursed by Voldemort ever since Dumbledore had turned him down for the position. That wasn’t common knowledge although people did remark how no one ever seemed to hold the job for longer than one term.
However, for the sake of appearances, Severus had applied for the post again and again. It was expected of him, in keeping with the dour, menacing character he had forged for himself over the years. He had been rejected repeatedly, just as he’d come to expect.
Imagine his shock when the Headmaster had allowed him the chance to teach the course this year. Of course, the wily fox did nothing without reason. When Severus had demanded to know what it was, the old man had given him a devastatingly straightforward answer: Harry was now of age to learn what tactics the Dark Lord would use against him. His Gryffindor sycophants would be in danger as well, simply because of their proximity to the Chosen One. And who better to teach what Voldemort was capable of than the most dangerous and subtle of his Death Eaters?
It was a good answer and he had to admit the class did appeal to the nastier side of his nature. Now he could indulge in physically attacking students under the guise of trying to teach them useful skills. However, it could never be as satisfying as his true passion.
He paused. In the dim light of his bathroom, he ran his fingers in wonder over his bare left arm. He couldn’t seem to stop doing it whenever he was alone. The Dark Mark had been there for so long, as much a part of him as his nails or his hair; it seemed impossible that it should be gone.
And he owed its loss to Harry Potter. Circe, didn’t that just rankle.
The thought of Harry caused contradictory emotions to coil in his skin. The boy was a pest, a nuisance, a conceited, preening thug no better than his father.
And yet... Harry was capable of bravery, loyalty and protecting those he loved. The irritating brat had his faults but anyone would be humbled to have him as a lover. The mere memory of the compassion and passion they’d shared caused desire to race with diamond-sharp teeth over Severus’s skin. He braced his arms on his sink, lowered his head and took several deep breaths.
He simply couldn’t afford to think this way. Harry was too young, too handsome, too desirable. He was the sodding Boy Who Lived, the golden darling of the wizarding world. Simply put, he was out of Severus’s reach.
Hastily, he donned his robes and retreated to his private lab. Here the familiar odors and closeness enveloped him like a second skin, bringing him to a semblance of calmness. How many happy hours had he spent within these stone walls, fine-tuning and inventing potions for his own personal satisfaction?
Potion brewing had been the one true solace of his life, especially after alienating the young Lily Evans. Nothing had ever brought him greater gratification than creating a brand new potion that would alter mortal life or tinkering with an existing one until it was a vast improvement over the original. Even the brief perversion of his talents by the Dark Lord hadn’t been enough to taint his love of this particular branch of magic.
Poppy Pomfrey could probably use new stores of Skele-Gro for her stores. He would start working on those.
The hours passed while his hands moved with practiced, mindless skill. However, even as the liquids and unguents filled the crystalline containers on his table, his mind refused to settle. He wondered how Harry was faring and once more cursed himself for worrying.
Without their Occlumency lessons, Harry and he kept company only in DADA classes. Severus couldn’t help but be intensely aware of the wretch these days, even more so than usual. It was like he could feel Harry’s gaze like a hand stroking along his cheek, his throat, down his back or across his thighs. Often Severus barely caught himself from looking at the Gryffindor to see whether the lad was indeed staring at him.
The pain of their separation seemed to worsen every day. Severus tried to ease it by becoming re-acquainted with his own right hand. It reduced the agony to a barely tolerable itch but did not dispel it entirely. Both his magical restraints and his temper seemed to be hanging by a thread and he feared losing control and blasting his own hole in the dungeon floor.
Had anyone else noticed anything? Dumbledore had said nothing since their impromptu meeting about the Patronuses. No one else so much as whispered about anything amiss. His caution appeared to have paid off.
So perhaps he wasn’t about to lose his position for molesting an underage child. Well, technically, Potter had assaulted him. He was the one doing the fucking, after all. Somehow, Severus didn’t think that would make a difference if the Wizengamot or the Daily Prophet ever got hold of the news.
Severus glanced at the row of potions that had accumulated on the table and blinked in surprise. No less than 14 bottles stood there in pristine splendor, each meticulously sealed in wax. There were potions for burns, bruises, broken bones and seeping sores, far more than he’d originally intended to make.
How had he managed so much without consciously thinking about it? He wasn’t even tired or bleary eyed as he would have been after spending so much time over a steaming cauldron.
Taking note of the time, he realized that it lacked just a little under a couple of hours until the start of first period. Fortunately, he was not required to helm Defense Against the Dark Arts until later in the morning. Perhaps now that he’d exerted himself, he could get back to sleep.
With trepidation, he stripped once more and approached his bed. Hopefully, there would be no more dreams.
__________
Severus stalked around the DADA room, scowling as he regarded the dueling couples. He was good at that. The cold northern climate where he’d grown up lent itself to intimidation and introspection. Careful thoughts were the hallmark of good Slytherins, after all. Only fools like Gryffindors charged in without thinking.
That last time between him and Har--Potter had been fraught with appalling sentimentality far more shocking than the sex. Severus hadn’t allowed himself to get close to anyone in years. Once he had allowed himself to love, twice to be seduced by the siren call of attraction and power, and thrice he had been bitterly disappointed.
Lily Evans. Lucius Malfoy. Tom Riddle. All of them had ensnared him in their way and all of them had crushed his hopes.
Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? It did a person no good to love; it only brought misery in the end. He thought of the words he had said to Harry about how his mother’s love had protected him, how nobility was a thing to be prized not spurned as a mistake simply because of Cedric Diggory’s death.
Snape’s lip twisted. Utter rubbish. Love protected no one. Wearing your emotions in the open like that only made you and your loved ones targets. James and Lily had learned that to their cost and so had he. The difference was that Severus was alive, had survived trials that had buried lesser men, and all because he had managed to stifle every streak of weakness his character possessed.
That week following his little trip down memory lane with Potter along for the ride, he was a terrifying specter to the students of Hogwarts. Even his Slytherins were not spared and he caught Draco Malfoy giving him odd looks during the DADA classes.
That boy worried him. There was a grayish tinge to his skin these days and dark circles under his eyes that seemed to deepen every day. He had sworn an Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa to help the child but the teenager remained infuriatingly dumb about whatever task the Dark Lord had set for him. How was he to help if the Malfoy pup didn’t confide in him?
“Sod it, Potter!” Blaise yelped as he was flung on to his back.
Harry was startled but not overly concerned with Blaise’s tumble. It always felt good to score over Slytherins. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not and you know it! What has gotten into you, anyway?” Zabini scowled as he stood up. He brushed at his arm and flinched. He yanked up his sleeve and his mouth dropped open. Covering his entire forearm was a patch of reddened skin covered with blisters. “Look what you did!” he hissed, his eyes tearing in pain.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?” Severus sounded at his elbow. The perfect distraction. Belittling the brat never lost its charm. At least it hadn’t up until now.
“Um, nothing,” Harry muttered. “I just went a little overboard with my Stinging Hex, that’s all.”
Severus bent down over Zabini’s arm and tsked. “In case you are too thick to remember, Potter, this class is Defense Against the Dark Arts. We can’t have you throwing about vicious spells like the Dark Lord, can we?” he smirked.
Harry’s fists balled up but he managed to maintain a stoical expression. “I’m sorry. Should I take him to the hospital wing?”
“It is Mr. Zabini’s arm that is damaged, Potter, not his legs. If he can bear the pain without fainting, he can walk to the Infirmary on his own. I would prefer you to stay here--where I can keep an eye on you.”
Harry flushed at the implication. His classmates were staring at him uneasily, much the same way that they had when he had spoken Parseltongue in public for the very first time. The public was certainly fickle. One day he was the Boy Who Lived, the next he was an unknown menace.
Severus raised his voice so the others could hear them. “In spite of his gross carelessness, Mr. Potter has actually succeeded in casting a wordless spell. We may congratulate him, students. It may be the first time he’s ever managed to do well in my class.”
Deprecating laughs and sniggers came from the Slytherins. Harry’s face was a study in misery as he stared at Blaise while the injured student left, cradling his arm.
Severus was struck by an odd pang as he saw it. Harry had meant no harm and took no joy in his defeat of the Slytherin. It bothered him to know that he was adding to the brat’s misery. Then he was annoyed at feeling upset over Harry’s wounded feelings. Decorum had to be maintained, after all.
He pulled out his wand to cast a silent Tarantallegra at the Gryffindor.
There was a tingle, just a split second before the spell manifested, that roused Harry to mount his own defense. Without speaking, he cast Stupefy, thinking it would do the least damage.
Instead of a simple jet of fiery light, a gout of flame like dragon’s breath burst from his wand. It struck Severus squarely in the center of his chest and flung him across the floor. His head hit the wall with a sickening crack and he slumped to the floor, leaving a trail of blood on the castle stones. He didn’t move.
“Professor!” Harry cried before running over to the unconscious professor. He tilted up Severus’s head and shuddered. There was a sticky mess on his fingers and he was terrified to see the blood matting the man’s hair.
There was a moment of silence before the room erupted into pandemonium. The Slytherins were yelling, accusing Harry of murder, while the Gryffindors looked like they couldn’t decide whether to kiss Harry or curse him.
Ignoring the frightened students behind him, Harry pointed his wand at the limp figure. “Mobilicorpus,” he muttered and lifted Severus into the air.
He turned only to find his way blocked by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. “Put him down, Potter. We’ll take him to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco snarled. “I don’t trust a Gryffindor with this.”
“Malfoy, I’ve got him. I’ll take him to the hospital wing.”
“And finish him off? We’ve just seen you attack one of us Slytherins and now Professor Snape. Everyone knows the two of you hate each other. You’re not to be trusted, Potter.” Malfoy pulled out his own wand and yelled out a spell, causing Severus’s body to wobble towards him.
“Malfoy, since when did your spells ever help anyone?” Harry snapped. “What you going to do for him? Throw a snake down his throat?”
The two of them engaged in a bizarre tug-of-war as the lanky Slytherin’s body jerked back and forth between them. Crabbe and Goyle found themselves facing off against Neville and Ron as they shouted insults with their wands drawn.
Hermione clapped her hands sharply. Harry’s attention faltered, causing Severus’s body to tilt dangerously towards the floor before Harry brought him back up again.
“Arguing isn’t going to help the professor. The both of you can take him and keep an eye on him. All right?” She looked at Harry narrowly until they both nodded. Harry and Draco glared at each other but managed to maneuver the man’s body through the door.
__________
In the hospital wing, Zabini was flexing his healed arm and debating whether to return to the DADA class when Harry and Draco came in with Severus. “Draco! What happened to the Professor?”
Draco glared. “If you must know, Potty here decided to kill Professor Snape!”
“You’d know all about murder attempts, wouldn’t you, ferret? Probably learned all about it from your dad!” Harry snarled.
Draco’s face paled and his hand tightened on his wand until the knuckles were white. The air crackled with tension until another voice broke in on the standoff.
“What is going on here?” Pomfrey asked, striding out of her office. “Have you forgotten this is a sickroom? I won’t have yelling and rowdy behavi--oh my goodness! Snape!” she cried, having caught sight of the dangling Potions professor.
“Potter here cast a spell and knocked the professor into a wall,” Draco said quickly, before Harry could explain or defend himself.
Pomfrey stared incredulously at the black-haired Gryffindor. “Is this true, Harry? Did you attack the professor?”
“Yes, but it was an accident! It was a simple Stupefy. It shouldn’t…”
She held up a hand. “Explanations can wait. Levitate him to the bed and I’ll take it from there. Harry, I want you to stay here and tell me exactly what you did to Professor Snape. I’ll need that to make an accurate diagnosis…and you realize this will have to be reported to the Headmaster.”
She glanced at the two hovering Slytherins. “Blaise, Draco. You may return to your classes as well.”
Draco immediately protested. “What? Wait, I want to stay here with the professor! I don’t trust Potter!”
“I will watch Mr. Potter. Professor Snape does not need you to play the watchdog and this is a sickroom for patients not a place to congregate like the library. You will leave. Now.”
Malfoy and Zabini edged out, both casting dark looks at Harry. While he was glad he wouldn’t have two furious Slytherins to deal with, Harry couldn’t help but worry about having to face the Headmaster alone.
He really wasn’t looking forward to that interview. The old man would get the truth out of him, he was sure of it. The mingling of their Patronuses, the weird surges of magical power--all of it would come out and he didn’t know what the Headmaster would have to say about it.
Would he be able to hide the part about the sex? He would have to; it wasn’t just his neck on the line here. Severus could very well lose his job.
He sat against the wall, his legs jittering on the floor, while Pomfrey tended to the DADA master. There was no sound from the bed and the white curtains shielding him from view did nothing to ease his worry.
All during the trip to the hospital wing, it had been all he could do to keep from touching Severus, to feel the reassurance of his warmth, his heartbeat. Only Draco’s presence had kept him from betraying the depths of his terror for his beloved charge.
Harry blinked. Charge? Yes, he’d sworn to protect Severus even if he’d stupidly wound up hurting him instead. But Severus wasn’t in his care. If anything, the Potions master would sneer that he had been the one protecting Harry practically from his first term in school.
Yet he felt so…protective towards the man lying stilly in the hospital bed. Harry had to fight the urge to push Pomfrey out of the way and nestle close to Severus, shielding him with his warmth and magic.
It was insane. He knew it had something to do with the summoning of their Patronuses. He had been feeling buzzed and out of sorts ever since then and he was fairly certain Severus had been, too. Except the man was in major denial and determined to keep Harry at a distance.
Maybe he didn’t think Harry was good enough, not if he’d had someone like Lucius Malfoy. Harry’s guts twisted whenever he ran over that scene between the two Slytherins. So what if Lucius had been a looker? He was a bloody ponce who’d seduced Severus into joining up with Voldemort. Fucking wanker.
Harry would never treat someone that way. He still remembered Hermione’s explanation of Cho Chang trying to make him jealous. He had been baffled by that explanation and hurt that Cho would try to manipulate him that way.
But it seemed that girls weren’t the only ones to play nasty mind games. He had to convince Severus that he was better than Lucius Malfoy any day. Otherwise, the former Potions master would keep trying to drive him off.
Maybe he should talk to Dumbledore about this. He was the only man Severus would listen to. If he enlisted the Headmaster’s help, Severus would be forced to acknowledge their feelings for each other and submit to whatever was going on between them.
Then again, what if Dumbledore insisted that they stop what they were doing? Well, if he did, they’d be no better off than they were now, would they? So what did Harry have to lose by confessing?
Severus. The Potions master would never forgive him if Harry blabbed and he would be in enough trouble when the man woke up.
He looked at the curtains again. Still no sound except for the occasional cluck from Pomfrey. Was that good or bad? Why didn’t Severus wake up?
Suddenly he heard it--a slight groan. Then…”Sweet Merlin, woman, are you trying to blind me with that Lumos? Take it out of my face at once!”
Okay, that sounded like the ill-tempered git that he knew. “Professor,” he whispered happily.
There was another silence behind the curtain. Then a softly spoken “Potter?”
Joy and relief surged in Harry’s heart. He swept aside the curtain and stood next to Severus’s bed. Black eyes snapped at him before darting in silent warning towards the woman standing by his bedside. “Mr. Potter. Would you care to tell me what are you doing here? For that matter, what am I doing here?”
Harry faltered. Just how much did the man remember? “Professor? Um, we had an accident in the DADA class…”
“Yes, I recall. That overly enthusiastic spell cast at Mr. Zabini. How is he doing, by the way?” he asked Madam Pomfrey.
Her eyes narrowed. “Quite well, no thanks to Mr. Potter. Mr. Zabini was quite eager to name the culprit behind his injury.” She glared in accusation at Severus. “Just what are you getting up to in that class of yours, Snape?”
“I don’t tell you what to do in your Infirmary, Pomfrey. Kindly do me the courtesy of keeping out of my affairs as well.” He flung aside the covers and stood up.
Rather, he tried to stand. Instead, his already sallow face went even whiter and his eyelids fluttered as he staggered. Harry reached out and grabbed his arm. “Sev--Professor, please! You’ve taken a real knock to the head. You need to lie down.”
Severus gave him an icy glare. Harry realized the Professor had caught his near-slip in front of Madam Pomfrey. He cringed at the mistake but it was too late to recall it.
“So it would appear,” Severus gritted out. Seating himself gingerly on the bed, Severus touched the sore place on the back of his head and winced as he encountered a thick bandage. “What is the meaning of this clumsy padding?”
“Mr. Potter can tell you. Better yet, he can save the explanation until Headmaster Dumbledore arrives. I’m going to Floo-call him now to inform him of events.”
The dark eyes took on their usual impassivity. “There is no need for that, Madam Pomfrey. What happened is the satisfying culmination of my training and Mr. Potter’s heretofore unimpressive showings in my classes.”
“It is? Mr. Zabini’s and your injuries are satisfying, are they?” she snapped.
“Indeed. I am teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, after all. Harry demonstrated a powerful wordless casting that took me completely by surprise. Since I don’t view this as an attack but a successful step in his training, there is no need to trouble the Headmaster with this news at this time.”
“That’s what you say, Professor. However, I don’t agree. This concerns two people in the same day coming into my sickroom and, when that happens, I believe the proper authorities are to be informed.” When Severus opened his mouth to argue, she raised an eyebrow. “Now don’t tell me what to do in my sickroom, Severus.”
It was clearly with a great deal of restraint that Severus prevented himself from hexing her. “Very well,” he stated stiffly. “However, when I am recovered, Potter and I will approach the Headmaster ourselves. You don’t know the full facts of the case and I’m sure the hallways are already rife with rumor. Only Mr. Potter and I will get any of the details correct.”
“I’m still going to keep you here until I’m convinced you’re steady on your feet,” Pomfrey stated in a no-nonsense voice.
Severus opened his mouth. But Harry shook his head minutely, hoping that the Slytherin wouldn’t argue. The man huffed in audible irritation but lay back on the pillows.
Harry hovered. He wanted to stay, to hold Severus close and make sure he was all right. But he was aware that he was acting a little oddly and he didn’t want to rouse Pomfrey’s suspicions further.
He shuffled and then murmured, “Um, I’m sorry, Professor.”
“No apologies are necessary, Mr. Potter. Now I suggest you hurry along to your next class before you lose house points,” Severus answered without opening his eyes.
Harry nodded jerkily before leaving the hospital wing. While he was happy to know that he’d have backup when he finally confronted Dumbledore, he still wasn’t looking forward to it.
__________
“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione whispered in Herbology.
“What do you mean?” Harry whispered back, pulling on his gloves as he prepared to tackle his Snargaluff pod.
“You’ve been acting really weird lately. And this business with Professor Snape…”
“What business? What weirdness? I’ve been just fine.”
“Fine? You blew a hole in the floor of the Potions room!” she hissed. Professor Sprout turned her head in their direction and she lowered her voice.
“And saved your hide. Why’re you complaining? Would a simple ‘thank you’ be too much to hope for?” Harry returned fiercely.
“I’m not complaining. And thank you. But today you nearly peeled Blaise’s skin off with a simple Stinging Hex.”
“Can’t say as I’m too sorry about that,” Harry said in an offhand fashion. He noticed he was squeezing the pod and relaxed his grip before the thing exploded.
“Yeah, Hermione, this is a Slytherin we’re talking about. Give it a rest,” Ron added. He was still wrestling with his pod, trying to get the vines clear before it attacked.
“All I’m saying, Ronald Weasley, is that Harry’s power seems to be flying out of control. It’s worrying, that’s all. Why aren’t you bothered?”
“The only thing that bothers me is that I wasn’t the one to blow the greasy, big-nosed git across the room. All the Slytherins were pretty chuffed about that,” Ron sniggered.
A surge of resentment flared in Harry. He didn’t like hearing Ron talk about Severus that way and the strength of his feelings shocked him. Just a few weeks ago, he would have agreed with Ron and been cheering over kicking the arse of the man who had made his time in Hogwarts hell since the day he’d arrived over five years ago.
Now he was shaken by all these warm and fuzzy feelings for Severus. That wasn’t right, surely?
It was that damned Patronus spell. It had to be. For the first time, without his cock thinking for him, Harry found himself wondering. Professor Slughorn had warned them how the Amortentia could cause a powerful obsession. Could the meeting of their two Patronuses have had a similar effect? Instead of merely causing horniness, could he actually be…falling for Snape?
Lost in thought, he nearly missed Hermione’s cry. “Ron, watch out!”
Ron’s plant had gotten away from him, the vicious tentacles reaching out to trap the Gryffindor. As Ron struggled, Harry drew his wand. “Relashio!” he yelled.
The plant didn’t simply release Ron. The strands trembled. Then they shattered into green-gray ash. Ron sputtered and coughed through the cloud surrounding him as Professor Sprout bustled over to them. “Goodness, what are you three up to now? Ronald, what happened to your pod?”
Ron gazed at the ashy ruins of his plant and then shot a frightened stare at Harry. “Um, I don’t know, Professor. Can I have a new one?”
“Very well. But I’m going to have to deduct points for this. I don’t have an infinite supply of greenery, you know.” She sniffed and gestured with her wand, levitating a fresh pot over to Ron.
As it settled in front of him, Ron bent over it, whispering out of the side of his mouth. “You know, maybe Hermione’s right, mate. Whatever’s wrong with you, get it fixed.”
Harry frowned, stifling a sigh. If only it were that simple… Well, maybe Dumbledore would have a solution.
__________
Severus Snape made a very swift recovery, much to Madam Pomfrey’s surprise. The minute crack she had detected in his skull had sealed itself completely. However, she had insisted on having Snape perform sensory acuity tests until he practically snarled at her to release him.
Seated before Dumbledore, he abruptly wished he had kept up the Occlumency lessons. It would have been the perfect opportunity to refine his story with Harry. He was fairly certain he could maintain his composure before the old fox. The Gryffindor’s nervous demeanour, however, did not bode well.
“Well, Severus, Harry. I have been hearing some interesting news about the school.”
“What news would that be, Headmaster?” Severus drawled. “As you know, Mr. Potter has had the habit of attracting attention to himself since his first year. He’s like his father that way. James Potter was always the little glory seeker.” He placed subtle emphasis on the last word, knowing that Harry wouldn’t miss the double entendre about his Quidditch position.
Harry’s face closed in, hurt and anger radiating from him. Good; rage would mean the child would be less likely to burst out in an unseemly display of affection. At the same time, his heart seemed to constrict in his chest and he longed to soothe the brat’s obviously wounded sensibilities.
He could sense something else. There was a low tingling to his skin since he and Harry had entered the Headmaster’s quarters, something that was heightening by the moment. In such close proximity to the Gryffindor, his heart was hammering and the closeness of the room was stifling. He wanted to grab Harry close, fling him to the floor, attack the pouting lips…
Merlin, what in Hades was wrong with him?
“I’d say throwing your teacher across a room is more attention than even Harry would seek out,” Dumbledore answered mildly, seemingly failing to pick up on the maelstrom in the Slytherin’s body. “That is what happened, isn’t it, Harry?”
Harry gave a jerky nod. “Yes, sir. I was practicing a spell and…”
“A wordless spell, Headmaster,” Severus interjected smoothly. “Imagine my surprise when young Potter got it right on the first try. It was very…commendable of him.”
Harry’s head shot up and a flush of pure pleasure spread across his cheeks. The sight of that innocent joy stirred corresponding warmth inside him; Severus did his best to tamp it down ruthlessly.
“So it seems it was the right decision to allow you to head the DADA class,” the Headmaster said, sharp blue eyes sliding from one to the other. “However, there have been tales of magical…misdemeanours that have nothing to do with Defense. That crater in the Potions floor gave the house-elves quite a bit of trouble to fix, young Harry.”
Harry sat up straight and swallowed. “I’m sorry about that, Headmaster. It was a simple Shield Charm; I don’t know what went wrong.”
“And the Stinging Hex that resulted in the severe burns to Blaise Zabini. That was alarming, to say the least.”
Severus remained silent, willing Harry with all his might to say nothing. The less said, the less they would give away. Harry blinked and peered at him; for a moment it seemed he might have picked up on his errant thought. But of course that was impossible.
Dumbledore took a sip of tea. Severus could wait it out as long as he had to but he could tell Harry was getting increasingly unnerved with the silence. Then Dumbledore said, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your Patronuses, would it, Harry?”
“No, sir! I haven’t seen my Patronus for days now,” Harry replied, his voice too strident.
“Nevertheless, the summoning of your Patronus with Severus’s was bound to have strange side effects. Why don’t you tell me exactly what transpired, Harry?”
Lovely. The Headmaster did have to put Harry on the spot and Severus could almost smell the panic leaking from the boy’s pores.
Without warning, Dumbledore flung his teacup at Harry. The Gryffindor yelped and flung up his hands.
The teacup did not fall. Miraculously, the spilled tea did not splatter across any surface. Instead, both cup and liquid hung suspended in the air as if caught in a Time spell.
Harry lowered his arms. He gaped at the display before Severus dispelled it by waving the liquid back into the container and lowering the cup to the saucer.
Dumbledore raised his bushy eyebrows. “Very interesting. That was quite a swift recovery, Harry. Did Severus teach you that spell, too?”
The teenager slumped in his seat. He didn’t answer; somehow he sensed that Dumbledore didn’t need a response.
The twinkling vanished to be replaced by a stern look. “I think I’ve been patient enough, waiting for the two of you to come to me. Now people are being injured and Harry’s powers are obviously growing beyond his ability to check them. I insist on knowing just what has transpired between the two of you.”
Severus murmured, “I’ve told you about our Patronuses, Headmaster…”
“I believe I would like to hear Harry’s version of that incident, Severus.”
Harry swallowed, his green eyes silently beseeching. God, if he’d dared he would have cast a Silencing Charm at the brat. He was going to confess, he just knew it, and Severus began bidding a silent farewell to the stone walls that had been his home for so long.
“Well, it sorta began with our Patronuses. I, uh, was cheeking Snape as usual…”
“Professor Snape, Harry,” Dumbledore corrected.
“Sorry. I was cheeking him, talking about how he didn’t know anything about happy feelings and he summoned his Patronus. Then I summoned mine.” He stopped and went blank, darting his eyes over the various portraits as if seeking answers from the listening painted figures.
“And then?” the Headmaster prodded.
“There was…it gets a little fuzzy…I think our magics combined somehow.” Harry’s face was a very interesting shade of red now and he couldn’t continue.
Severus mentally rolled his eyes. Called upon to lie and this was the best the brat could do? Still, it told the barest minimum without giving away the game.
Dumbledore waited while the quiet grew to uncomfortable proportions. It was clear the Headmaster knew what had transpired between him and young Potter. What was the purpose of this inquisition?
“I know when magical events occur within these walls, gentlemen. A nice little benefit of becoming Headmaster. What I don’t always understand is the exact nature of such spells. If I deem them to be innocuous, I ignore them. There is too much happening here for me to keep track of every little spell, hex and charm cast. But when something of this magnitude comes to my attention, I insist on being informed.”
The old man’s eyes grew steely. Then all the portraits in the room were flung around, causing their inhabitants to let out various protesting squeaks before going completely silent. Dumbledore hadn’t so much as gestured in their directions and Severus was abruptly reminded that he was in the presence of the most powerful wizard in Britain, one even the Dark Lord himself hesitated to face.
The blue-eyed ancient paused and then continued in his usual placid tones. “Shall I hazard a guess as to the nature of this summoning? There was a sexual component involved, yes?”
A helpless look from the Gryffindor came Severus’s way although he didn’t betray himself with so much as a twitch. Dumbledore sighed at their continued silence. “Perhaps you think I’m too old to understand such things or that it is embarrassing to discuss it in front of a third party.”
Harry blurted out, “It’s not Professor Snape’s fault, sir. It was mine. I seduced him and once we started he couldn’t fight me off. It hurt him too much.”
Seduced? What a quaint way to put it. Severus could feel the ache in his groin bloom to hideous proportions. Any moment now he was going to jump on Harry, Headmaster be damned. He concentrated on his breathing and began mentally reciting potions ingredients to steady his nerves.
“Commendable of you to admit it, Harry. But this isn’t about blame. I’m trying to ascertain the exact parameters of what took place. I believe that seminal fluids were exchanged?”
Harry nodded jerkily, that beet-red flush all over his face.
“Saliva?”
Another nod.
“Blood?”
“Yes,” Severus answered.
“No,” Harry said at the same time.
Dumbledore’s brows creased. “Well? Was there blood spilled or not?”
“No! I didn’t hurt Severus! I’d never do that! On purpose, I mean,” Harry amended.
“You bit me in the shoulder, Potter,” Severus pointed out, annoyed that Harry should use his first name in front of the Headmaster.
“I-I did? I don’t remember that!” Harry gaped, his eyes wide as he tried to remember.
“You were rather…caught up in the event. I barely felt it myself until it began to sting. I healed it before you noticed it, I expect.”
“Oh.” Harry glanced uncertainly from him to Dumbledore. “Does that mean anything?”
“It means a great deal.” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. Instead of being angry or upset over what was surely illegal congress between a teacher and a student, and a minor at that, he looked rather satisfied.
“You and Severus have inadvertently activated a bonding spell. It began with your Patronuses and continued with the presence of the bodily fluids I have mentioned. You and Harry are now very powerful indeed. Together, even Voldemort wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”
“How can that be? Just because of our Patronuses?” Harry wondered.
“More than that. Your Patronus shared the same species as their animal counterparts and opposite sexes, which is very rare. You were already considerably in sympathy with each other, whether you knew it or not. The sexual joining heightened your magical abilities, raising them to a formidable degree.”
The old bitterness surged within Severus. “You must be mistaken, Headmaster. Let us not forget two other…bonded wizards whose Patronuses were the same species and opposite sex. Surely they must have summoned both of theirs at one point. Their subsequent conjoined state was not enough to protect them from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”
“I suspect bloodshed was never a part of their union, Severus,” Dumbledore pointed out. “And blood is a necessary component for ensuring the completion of this bond.”
“Wh-what else is required, Headmaster?” Harry asked, his body leaning forward. Oddly he wasn’t as flustered as Severus would have expected. Instead his face held the intensity of a sex-starved veela and the Potions master experienced a minute trembling throughout his form.
“There are the bodily fluids, of course. Then there is mental joining.”
Harry darted a look towards Severus before focusing on the Headmaster again. “Mental?”
“Quite. I take it you have been keeping up with your Occlumency lessons, even after this…incident?”
“We did, Headmaster. But I decided to discontinue them,” Severus interjected to save the brat from answering. “Harry isn’t entirely incapable of learning, after all. His abilities have proven to be more than adequate. I doubt even the Dark Lord could penetrate his thoughts now.”
Unless he was face to face with Harry, he silently amended. Merlin, the little monster was flushing again at his praise. Severus would have to teach him to control that. Harry would learn to hide his emotions if he had to put him under Imperius.
“Then I think it’s time you stepped up your training. Severus, continue Harry’s training in private, away from watchful eyes. Remember, Harry, people are talking now about your unusual displays of power. The sooner you learn to control them, the sooner the rumors will die down. We can’t have any word about this getting back to the Dark Lord. Professor Snape’s involvement is not yet known and it’s best that it remain so.”
He nodded at them both, smiling faintly. It was evident the interview was over. Severus frowned. Had the Headmaster forgotten the more disturbing part of their news?
“Headmaster, I must protest. For the sake of propriety, we must discontinue any private…lessons. The nature of the bond makes it unsuitable for the two of us to be alone together for any length of time.”
That injured look was something he could practically feel digging into his back. He ignored it to focus on Dumbledore.
“The very nature of the bond means that you cannot be separated from each other, my dear boy. I’m imagining that even now you are experiencing some distress, hm?”
Damn, he had been certain he’d hidden it.
“Severus? Is that right? Are you hurting? Because of me?” A firm hand pressed against his back. He flinched in annoyance and stepped away from the touch even as his body screamed for its return.
“I don’t need your inept gropings, Mr. Potter. Unlike you, I am a grown man in full control of his emotions, not a hormone-driven child prey to every wandering surge of chemicals. Good day, Headmaster.” He tilted his head to Dumbledore and swept away from the unhappy Gryffindor.
There, that should make himself perfectly clear. Unfortunately, he could hear Harry pounding down the stairs after him and gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the argument he knew was coming.
“So when’s our next lesson?” Harry asked.
The skip from impending altercation to fait accompli was jarring and it took him precious seconds to catch up. “There will be no further lessons, Potter. Haven’t I made myself perfectly clear?”
“I think Dumbledore…”
“Headmaster,” he snarled.
“…would have something to say about that. Besides, he’s right. My magic isn’t working right. I need to get it in order. You don’t want me losing control and frying Malfoy, do you?” Harry asked with deceptive sweetness.
Severus stopped short so abruptly Harry ran into his back. He spun around and grabbed the Gryffindor by the arms, digging his fingers into the skin. “Do not even think of venting your spleen on Slytherins, Mr. Potter, or you will regret it,” he ground out.
“Are you two quarrelling again? What is it this time?” A richly gowned woman mounted on a palfrey in an ornate frame peered at them. The figures in nearby pictures also craned their necks to watch, interested to see the latest fracas transpiring between Harry Potter and his least favorite teacher.
Severus drew back, schooling his features to blankness. In Hogwarts, the walls literally had ears. This discussion had to be terminated and quickly. Easier said than done. His body was shaking, both from his fluctuating emotions and the all-too-brief touch he’d shared with Harry just now.
“That will be all, Mr. Potter.”
“Sev…”
“Professor Snape to you, boy!” he snapped and spun away in a swirl of black.

TBC
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The Way of the Patronus