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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
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A large parcel wrapped in brown paper and twine awaited Severus upon his return to his rooms. Out of habit, he reached for his wand to inspect the mysterious package for curses or spells. Of course, his wand wasn’t there, and even if it had been he would have been incapable of using it.

“Blast.” He muttered in frustration. Once again, he’d forgotten, despite the fact he’d been awake for over four months, and without his magic for infinitely longer. Being back in Hogwarts sometimes caused him to forget his current unfortunate circumstances, which only made it all the more painful when something as innocent as a paper-wrapped parcel brought him crashing back into reality.

Severus picked up the package and resisted the urge to tear the wrapping off violently, opting instead to neatly fold back the paper and set it aside. He traced his long, white fingers over the shop name embossed in the cardboard box, Margaret Chen Custom Clothiers. The name seemed suspiciously Muggle (although, realistically, he had taught a Cho Chang, and that wasn’t a particularly Wizardly name, was it?).

Slowly lifting the lid off the box, his eyes studied the neatly folded length of cloth that had been cautiously wrapped in white tissue.

It was an exact replica of his teaching robes.

Pulling the silky, black garment from its box, Severus inspected it carefully. There were exactly fourteen buttons up the front, and twelve up each forearm. The seams were double stitched, just as he liked, and the collar stood rigid and high. Whoever had ordered these robes had obviously gone to great pains to make sure they were as close to the original as possible.

Rubbing the soft wool between his thumb and forefinger, Severus pondered the possible origins of his (admittedly) thoughtful gift. It was the sort of thing Albus would do, but last he’d checked, dead men didn’t give gifts.

Severus peered in the box for some kind of clue, and found nothing but a single piece of cardstock in the bottom of the box. In neat, feminine script read the instructions ‘Extra billowy, as per instruction’ and a price of £200.

Although he rarely had occasion to spend Muggle currency, Severus was keenly aware that £200 was an exorbitant amount to pay for a garment. He absently wondered if the seamstress had added a surcharge per button.

Shucking his Muggle garb, he slipped into the cool, familiar embrace of the loose fabric, allowing himself a small indulgent sigh as the luxurious cloth slid down his torso and brushed against his bare thighs.

He was just admiring his familiar old look when he heard a loud knock on his chamber door. The sound startled him; he still wasn’t used to hearing a knock before the familiar shudder of his wards. Grudgingly, he strode over the door to manually open it.

A hand slapped across his face with enough force to cause Severus to stumble back into his chambers.

Fighting the back the look of shock that threatened to grace his usually composed features, Severus calmly righted himself and dusted off his new clothes.

“Really, Malfoy? An open-handed slap? How very Hufflepuff.” He sneered at his assailant and refused to raise his hand to touch the stinging flesh of his cheek.

Draco strode in after him, “You are a selfish prick, you know that, Sir?” he spat, staring the older man down fearlessly.

Severus returned the stare coldly, “Be that as it may, I’d remind you not to address your professor in such a way, Mister Malfoy. Fifty points from Slytherin.”

The blonde’s face contorted into a mirthless sneer, “I’m a Prof here, too now, Sev,“ he purred, “Teaching your old subject, in case you’d forgotten. You can’t take any points from me, I graduated years ago.”

The reminder hit Severus like a bucket of ice water to the face. He was, for once, lost for words.

With a flick of his wrist, Draco summoned a wingback chair to slide up behind Severus, knocking his knees and forcing him to fall gracelessly onto the worn leather upholstery with a loud ‘oompf’. Severus stared straight ahead, refusing to look up to the man who was still just a child in his mind.

“Now,” Draco continued, “I think it’s time we had a little talk about what’s going on here.” His voice was steady, but Severus could hear the cold rage that burned just beneath his stony exterior.

“There’s nothing going on, Draco.”

The blonde snorted derisively, “Keep telling yourself that, Severus.“ He conjured a chair for himself and sat down gracefully. “Nobody here is going to pretend to know what you’re going through right now. You’ve been through an incredibly traumatic experience, and now you’re stuck here with no magic, no potions, and no war to fight. You have, essentially, lost everything you know; with the exception of some of the staff and the more charming members of the class of 1998, of course.” He smirked as Severus fixed him with a scowl.

“-be that as it may,” Draco continued, a little more softly than before, “My sympathy, which had been wearing rather thin, has now officially run out. You cannot keep behaving like an insolent child, and hurting people in the process.”

“I’m not insolent,” Severus grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.

Draco stared at him quizzically.

Severus dropped his arms.

“You are insolent, and many more far less flattering adjectives I can think of. You’ve been an utter tosser to all the people who’ve done nothing but try to help you. Especially Harry.” The name escaped Draco’s mouth at a volume barely higher than a whisper.

Severus snorted, “I’m sorry, have you come here to defend your boyfriend? Can the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Shag-The-Malfoy-Heir not stand up for himself?” His cock twitched involuntarily even as his stomach churned at the thought of Potter’s short but muscular body wrapped around the long, lithe form of the Slytherin sitting before him. Well, standing before him, now, as Draco stood up with enough force to knock over his chair.

“Listen to me, Snape,” he spat, “You have no idea what Harry Potter has done for you. You don’t even know who he is. Let me enlighten you: Harry Potter saved your sorry arse. He pulled your broken body from the Shrieking Shack, he got you medical treatment. When you were laying in a coma, he came to see you every day. Every. Fucking. Day. Even on the days he spent twelve or more hours fighting to get the Wizengamot to exonerate you. How did you repay him? By accusing him of causing the death of everyone you’ve ever loved, while so blindly ignoring the fact that he’s lost infinitely more than you.”

Moisture gathered in the corners of Draco’s eyes, but whether they were borne of sadness of rage, Severus couldn’t be sure.   His heart dropped into his stomach with an almost audible thud.

“Draco, I-“ he began.

“You fucking destroyed him, Snape.” Draco informed him coldly. “I don’t even think you know how much damage you’ve done. After all he’s done for you! You treat him so poorly, and then drunkenly attempt to seduce him?”

Flashes of the previous night came back to Severus with startling clarity. He closed his eyes in an effort to banish the images from his brain, and held his breath to prevent the groan of horror that was threatening to make itself known.

“I didn’t ask him to do anything for me,” Severus murmured.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Then why-“

Draco dropped to his knees, gathering Severus’ cool hands in his own. Too startled by the gesture to react, Severus just stared at him in disbelief.

“You ask yourself why anyone would sit at someone’s bedside for a thousand days, Severus, and then you tell me.” The boy’s eyes were sorrowful.

Severus shook his head slightly, in utter confusion, “But I saw him, and you... this morning.” He was utterly perplexed. Draco couldn’t possibly be insinuating what he thought, could he? There was no way the Potter boy felt anything more than professional courtesy for him, the greasy Death Eater twenty years his senior.

Draco released his hands and stood up slowly. “You don’t know what you saw,” he whispered, “but I can tell you what I saw. I saw a man so betrayed by the person he cares about that he lost his mind, just for a minute. “

He stood and made his way to Severus’ door. “I’ll be on my way, now, Professor. I just have one more question for you-“

Severus nodded, dumbstruck.

A sad smirk crossed Draco’s face, “Have you ever fucked someone who can’t even look you in the eye while they’re doing it? And you know, deep down, that they can’t look at you because then they’ll have to admit that you’re not who they really want?”

The older man shook his head slowly.

Draco’s mouth twisted into an oddly sad smile. “I have.”

He swept from the room and closed the heavy wooden door behind him, leaving one very confused Potions Master to ponder alone in his chambers, stroking the hem of his brand-new robes.

~*~*~

Neat rows of carefully-tended plants swayed slightly in the breeze as Severus slowly walked up the dirt path that lead to Potter’s cottage. The walk seemed much longer when he was sober and it was light outside, but perhaps it merely seemed to take an eternity due to the sense of foreboding that weighed heavily in his chest.

His boots made knocking sounds on the lumber stairs as he walked up to the front door, took a deep breath, and rapped his knuckles on the knotted wood.

He was surprised when Longbottom answered the door.   The now-disturbingly handsome wizard smiled broadly at Severus and gestured for him to come inside.

“Hullo, Professor,” he said with a confident grin (and oddly enough, without a stutter), “’Mione and I were just chatting with Harry about your little condition.”

Severus watched as Hermione and Harry shot each other glances from across the small cottage, and he hesitated on the front step.

“Perhaps I should come at a better time-“

“No time like the present.” Longbottom said, cheerfully ushering him inside. “Nice robes, by the way. I thought you couldn’t wear Wizarding clothes?”

Severus absently rubbed one of the tiny buttons on his sleeve, “They were in my room when I arrived today. A gift, apparently, commissioned from a Muggle tailor.” He stood self-consciously, suddenly aware of the three pairs of scrutinizing eyes in the room.

“Well they’re dashing, anyway. Don’t you think, Harry? Hermione?”

Harry cast a quick glance his way and smirked, his eyes full of some emotion that Severus couldn’t quite place. “They’re lovely, Professor. Look just like your old self in them.”

Nodding stiffly, Severus muttered his thanks and continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway. “I was hoping you might have a moment, Potter, but I see you have company.”

A flicker of interest flashed across Harry’s otherwise stoic face, “Well, I shan’t be asking my guests to leave, so whatever you have to say, you can say in front of them.”

“Harry-“ Hermione began to object.

“Fine.” The word was out before Severus had even thought it. Surprised with himself, he paused before continuing, “Pott-Harry... I wanted to apologize for my behaviour. It has been brought to my attention that I may have treated you more than a little unfairly, and I would like to make amends.”

Potter’s snort could be heard a mile away. “A little unfairly?”

Severus stood his ground as the young man crossed the floor of the cottage to stand in front of him. Despite the fact that he was still a solid six inches taller than the boy, Severus had never felt quite so small. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but did not look away from Harry’s surreally green eyes.

“Perhaps more than a little,” he admitted.

Harry’s face was now a mere four inches from his own, and the young man’s breath was hot against Severus’ neck.

“Damn right, more than a little.” Harry spat, “Do I really mean that little to you, Severus? So little that you think you can just treat me like absolute shite?”

“I know you did a lot for me-“

He cut Severus off, “Fuck what I did or didn’t do for you, Sir. I’m just pissed you haven’t realized why I did it.”

There was a crackle of energy in the room, a build-up of some kind of electricity.   Severus could almost feel tiny sparks bouncing back and forth between them, causing the tiniest hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

With a sudden shock of energy, Harry’s lips were on his, hot, dry and needy. Severus froze in place, riveted to the spot as if struck by lightning. Through his closed eyelids, he could see a bright blue glow of light start to build around them and pulse in an erratic and frantic pattern.

When he was finally able to move his arms, he placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders and shoved the boy away.

The light flashed and was gone.

The two men stood at the centre of the room, staring at each other breathlessly with distinctly different looks of shock on their faces. Harry’s was shock and awe, while Severus’ seemed to be more of shock and horror.

Neither man heard Neville whisper to Hermione from their place of refuge under the kitchen table, “I guess we know who really absorbed Snape’s powers now, eh ‘Mione?”

~*~*~

It made sense. Merlin help him, it made horrible, horrible sense.

Severus was sitting in his old classroom staring in disbelief at the diagram Hermione had drawn on the chalkboard. Harry, Draco and Neville all occupied the desks around him and were regarding the drawings with similar expressions of incredulity.

It was possible, in fact there was really no other explanation for the strange reaction that had occurred between he and Potter during The Kiss.   Harry had his powers, and he must have absorbed through Voldemort , instead of through Nagini directly.   Braving a look across the classroom, Severus caught Potter looking at him.

And smiling.

That ridiculously lop-sided grin cause an unfamiliar feeling in Severus’ stomach, while simultaneously causing a much more familiar twitch in his cock.

He was doomed.

Lost in thought as he was, he had completely stopped paying attention to Granger’s inane ramblings at the front of the classroom.

“I don’t know how I didn’t put it all together before. I mean honestly, how does someone become adept at Potions and Occlumency essentially overnight?” Hermione mused, pacing excitedly back and forth across the front of the room.

“I still can’t convince you it was extra studying, can I?” quipped Potter.

Hermione rolled her honey-coloured eyes but smiled in good humour. “That’s beside the point, I suppose. We know where his magic went, now we just need to get it back to its rightful owner.”

Draco laughed, “What does Harry have to do, snog it back into him?”

Hermione paused.

Severus slid lower in his seat, cursing himself for his inability to conjure a Notice-Me-Not charm at that very moment.

“Well-” Hermione blushed, despite an obvious effort to stay professional. “I don’t know if snogging’s going to be quite enough actually. I think they may need to engage in something a little more... intimate.”

He could feel Harry’s eyes on him as Severus silently begged the floor to open and swallow him up. Sliding as gracefully as he could from his seat, he stood up and excused himself to his chambers, his new robes disguising the unsteadiness in his gait.

He’d barely had time to sit down before the expected knock on his chamber door informed him that the meddlesome brat had no intention of leaving him alone. Making himself comfortable on the sofa, Severus pointedly ignored the rapping and cracked open a bottle of Jameson.

His chamber door swung open.

“That was locked, Potter.” He grumbled, angrily.

Harry sighed and re-holstered his wand, “Sorry, Sir, but politeness had to take a back seat to practicality.”

“Get out.”

“Not until we talk about this.”

“Nothing to talk about, Potter.”

Harry strode into the room and made himself comfortable in a chair, the same chair Draco had sat in before handing Severus his arse that morning. I really must dispose of that particular piece of furniture, he mused to himself.

After taking a deep breath, Harry finally spoke. “Look, I know this is hard, Sir. I do. I also know that you have absolutely no interest in me...but I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done to get you back to your old self again.”

“Noble Gryffindor,” Severus sneered.

“You can stop with that bollocks, sir. My house affiliation has nothing to do with this.” He paused, running his fingers through his impossibly messy mop of black hair. “It could be worse, you know. We could have to sacrifice a virgin or cut off a limb or something, this is just... well, it’s just a shag, innit? I know you probably don’t care, but I think I’m decent enough at the whole shagging thing. So I’ve been told, anyway.” He grinned impishly, even as a blush rose and coloured his cheeks.

Knocking back the glass of Jameson, Severus desperately attempted to ignore the feeling of arousal that was creeping over him. He certainly made a point of ignoring how good Harry looked lit by firelight, or how the dark purple of his sweater enhanced the green in his eyes. While he was at it, he ignored the way that sweater was stretched slightly across his muscular chest, accenting his firm build and lean belly.

“Do you really switch partners that frequently, Potter? Do you not care for Mr. Malfoy’s feelings in the matter?”

Harry slipped his fingers under his glasses so he could rub his eyes for a moment before replying. “That was a mistake. Draco and I aren’t... involved.”

“I find it laughable that your generation can construe having their cock up someone’s arse as ‘not involved’.”

“Look, it was a mistake. He and I both know it. He knows how I feel... about you”

A painful pause hung between them as Harry cast his eyes up to meet Severus’, the older man looking away as quickly as his pride would allow.

“I think you should leave, Potter.” He said firmly.

“You don’t have to like me, Severus. You don’t have to think anything of it at all, we’ll just do what we need to do to get you your powers back, and then I’ll leave. I just go.” A combination of sadness and resignation tinged the Harry’s voice as he spoke, running his fingers through his unruly mop of hair.

Severus’ reply was but a single word.

“No.”

Harry’s hand leaft his head and dropped down to his side, where it balled into a fist. “Do you really hate me that much, that you can’t fuck me to get your own magic back?” he hissed, “Am I so appalling that you’d rather live as a Muggle, than be intimate with me?” The bitter words spilled from his mouth and hit Severus right in the gut.

An unfamiliar combination of panic and sorrow washed over Severus as he watched the young man make to exit the room.

The words nearly caught in his throat.

“If I hated you- if I despised you – it would be easy.” He softly told the boy’s back.

Harry stopped but didn’t turn around, “What exactly do you mean?”

Severus said nothing.

The silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, until finally Harry managed to choke out a few more words. “Severus, please...”

“Do you need me to spell it out, Potter?” he spat rising from his chair and crossing the room with three long strides. He grabbed the boy’s shoulders and spun him around roughly, his black eyes flashing with rage as he towered over him.

Unflinching, Harry met his gaze evenly, and cocked his head just ever so slightly to the left. “No, Sir,” he breathed, “you don’t.”

Severus wasn’t sure why he was allowing it, how he could possibly condone letting Harry’s rough, work-hardened hand push his hair back.   He couldn’t explain for a second why he didn’t recoil from his grasp at the strong fingers snaked themselves through his locks and yanked him forwards.

And he certainly couldn’t explain why he let Harry Bloody Potter kiss him. Again.

The now familiar rush of electricity passed between them as Harry’s soft but firm lips pressed against his. Those delectably rough hands were in Severus’ hair, pulling him closer so he couldn’t escape the tongue that was now violating his mouth.

His cock flared to life, thickening and swelling with a need he’d refused to acknowledge over these past few months. Breaking free from his momentary enchantment, Severus growled and returned the kiss fiercely.

They stumbled their way across the room, tearing clothing off each other with hands that were clumsy and shaking with need. Severus winced as he accidentally slammed Potter into the doorframe leading to the bedchamber, offering more tongue by way of apology.

Harry didn’t seem to mind. Nor did he seem mind when Severus slammed him down on the large, firm bed and peeled off his t-shirt, tossing it dangerously close to the fire. Harry kicked off his trainers and began to pull at Severus’ clothing, tearing off a few of the buttons which rained onto the stone floor with tiny pinging noises.

Severus pulled his mouth away from Harry’s for just long enough to mutter, “My new robes-“ wistfully.

“Don’t worry, I can get Margaret to patch them up for you. She owes me a favour.” Harry replied, forcefully pulling the length of black fabric off his lover’s body.

Severus stared at him in surprise. “You-?”

Harry grinned, “What’s a dungeon bat without wings?”

“Prat,” Severus snarled, and ravaged his mouth once again.

Neither of them noticed the blue light that began to accumulate in the room and Severus ran his tongue down the length of Harry’s labour-toned body, tracing a line across the taut plains of his chest and stomach until finally following the trail of dark hair that ran down to his groin.

Harry moaned with desire, clutching the bedclothes in both fists as he thrust his hips towards the lips that were slowly dragging themselves across his erect cock, leaving a faint trail of moisture in their wake.

Severus looked up the length of the young body pinned beneath him, smirked, and took the cock into his mouth.   Harry moaned as Severus bobbed up and down on his length, deftly caressing the underside with the point of his tongue.   His long fingers wrapped around Harry’s hips, pinning the man to the bed for fear his violent thrusts might break Severus’ nose.

“Please-“ Harry begged, throwing his head back and arching his spine.

Severus adjusted his angle and opened his throat, taking in Harry in his entirety. When his thin lips hit the boys groin, he flicked his tongue out and let it dart against the wrinkled flesh of his sac.

A scream wrenched itself from Harry’s throat, “You’re not... are... you- are you tonguing my balls and sucking my cock?”

Severus chuckled, a low deep rumble that sent vibrations spiralling through his victim’s body. Harry arched up into him and climaxed, shuddering as Severus collected his seed greedily.

The blue light continued to illuminate the room, flickering and pulsing like a racing heartbeat.

Without giving Harry a change to recover, Severus wrenched the young man’s shaking thighs apart and exposed his wrinkly pink target. Reaching into his mouth, Severus scooped out the come he’d collected and smeared it in the crease before slathering it on himself.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled, poising the head of his prick at Harry’s quivering entrance.

“Never,” moaned Harry.

Severus pushed.

Harry gasped.

The light pulsed more brightly, swirling about their entwined bodies like a thick, glowing mist.

Severus grit his teeth to stop himself from climaxing with the first, perfect thrust into Harry’s tight body.   The young man’s face was contorted into an expression of sublime pain, which slowly morphed into something more akin to pleasure.

Rocking his hips slowly at first, Severus quickly lost control and began thrusting frantically as Harry’s legs encircled his waist.   Harry’s strong fingers were digging into Severus’ back as he desperately tried to pull the man closer, so his sweat-slicked belly might rub against Harry’s renewed erection.

The sound of the two hard bodies slapping together was nearly drowned out by Severus’ savage grunts and Harry’s loud moans. Leaning forward, Severus sank his teeth into Harry’s bronzed shoulder, eliciting a pained cry from the man’s mouth, and a hot spurt of come on his belly.

Harry’s climax took Severus over the edge, and he stiffened and jerked before spewing his own load into the heaving body beneath him.

The light exploded, whiting out the room, as both men collapsed into unconsciousness.
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One Thousand Days