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
- 4
- 5
- 6
AN: I’m basically writing ten-page chapters in a day’s time. I’m awesome. I promise lots of plot with just as much smut. I am all about the slutty Potter and Snape storyline.
Warning: Steamy steamy…with a double side of ridiculously jealous Sev. And! The super prat returns!!!
Chapter Five
*
Harry was having a hard time breathing by the time he reached the dungeons. The memory of what had transpired just moments before was starting to settle in. Oh Merlin. McGonagall and a few other professors had been in the same place he had gotten off in. Harry was mortified.
What had possibly given Snape any right to do that – and to do so in public? The boiling rage inside him was making his chest feel unbearably tight. After sending him away the night before, Snape decided it would be appropriate to molest him in public?! Bloody ridiculous.
Harry made his way to Snape’s quarters, using the hidden entrance he was made privy to a few days before, and with little regard to manners, threw the door open.
“What the bloody hell did you do that for?!” he growled.
Snape was seated at his usual chair, one leg crossed over, a book held easily between the fingers that had previously gave him such devilish sensations, and no hint of surprise or insult on his expressionless face. He closed the book, as if he was not in the midst of being accused, and merely gazed towards Harry.
“I hardly see the issue,” he replied coolly. “I dare say that you looked to enjoy my attentions.”
Harry’s face screwed up with the insult. “That’s a natural reaction! I couldn’t really do much else!”
“Hm,” Snape said with a small lift to the side of his mouth. “Your expressions would say otherwise.”
Harry stiffened with the statement. This side of Snape was new to him; well, not new in the sense that the older wizard was being the usual sarcastic git from his school years, but it was done in such perverse way, one that Harry never thought Snape capable. Was he some sort of closet sadist in the bedroom? Harry cringed at the thought.
“If you continue that thought, Harry, I will be forced to resume our punishment from earlier.” Harry’s face morphed from rage to befuddlement in seconds. “Do not play coy. You were talking with Wood about things you should not have. Did I not warn you yesterday to keep your conversations brief?”
Possessive jerk. Harry had suddenly lost all his steam. He took a seat on the couch and let out a deep sigh. “You are absolutely mad, Severus. That was a brief conversation. Why does it matter anyway? I have feelings for YOU, not Oliver.”
Snape made a chiding noise. “You are too familiar with him. You will give him a mistaken impression.”
“Impression of what, Severus? That I might want to be friends with him? Merlin,” Harry groaned as he gazed over towards the other man. Snape was surprisingly possessive, but that should come as no surprise since most Slytherins were. “I work with him. I will have to have some sort of relationship with him. And you call me the brat.”
Snape was instantly beside him as if the man was capable of unnatural speeds. Harry leaned away, suddenly intimidated by the glisten in the older wizard’s eyes.
“You are mine now, Harry. You would do well to remember it,” Snape said deeply enough to cause Harry’s bones to quake and toes to curl. “I do not share…with anyone. You may speak with Wood, but understand, if he should attempt anything, then you will have no say in how I choose to discipline such an action.”
“Merlin,” Harry breathed as the words caused a deeper part of him to yearn for the man to not only promise him such things but seal them with kisses – hot, passionate, adulterated kisses. “Fine,” he finally agreed reluctantly. He might be stubborn, but Snape was much more stubborn and manipulative; he had no chance in hell.
Harry tried to ignore the elevation in his pulse as he fished for things to say. “I thought you said that you didn’t want to rush the physical side of things…”
“Did it displease you that I did?” Harry could practically hear the other man’s amusement.
Harry wanted to growl with frustration. “No. I like…” he swallowed as the other wizard shifted closer and ghosted his breath on the exposed side of Harry’s neck, “—I mean, I want those things too, just not in public.”
“Is that so?” Snape whispered hotly over the shell of Harry’s ear, causing unbidden tremors to run through him. “I quite enjoyed the way you fought to restrain your voice,” he continued in a low, silky voice that was doing remarkable things to Harry’s body. “I especially took pleasure in the indecent flush of your body as you came in my hand, Harry.” Harry’s breathing had grown ragged. “You had even gone as far as to injury yourself to hold back your cries of ecstasy. It was all very…enticing.”
Harry’s hands were fisting on his thighs, eyes shuttering closed, and tongue peeking out to swipe across his suddenly dry lips. The words and voice were sinful; they made Harry want to do things, say things, throw his morals to the wind just to sample the world Snape was creating with his mouth.
“Do you wish for me to touch you, Harry?” Snape’s voice whispered so low, so resonate that it caused a series of tingles as a result.
Harry was finding the air around him harder and harder to inhale. “Yes.”
“How would you like me to touch you?”
Harry moistened his lips, his eyes closed so tightly to focus only on the words being whispered so seductively into his ear that he could easily come in no time at all should the assault continue. His hand searched beside him, daring to touch the other man. He felt the soft material of Snape’s trousers, daring to go farther until a hand grabbed his own and imprisoned it.
“Tell me, Harry. How do you desire my touch?”
Harry groaned in frustration. He would be lucky if he could speak coherently, let alone tell the man what he wanted. He attempted it however as his trousers were growing impossibly tight. “Kiss me.”
*
Severus was intoxicated with the boy’s open, unhindered desire. The perspiration had collected, like glistening jewels, on Potter’s forehead, and the boy’s body was positively flushed with a joining of lust and embarrassment. He had never intended to take their relationship so far, at least not so soon; he had merely intended to taunt the boy and his youth. However, like in the Great Hall, Severus was finding that he was slowly becoming drawn into the boy’s honest reactions.
Iridescent emerald eyes opened like flowers blooming in the moonlight. They watched him, pleading Severus to give Potter what he most desired – to fall back into sin. Severus was finding the notion was harder to deny this time. He wanted to hear Potter’s moans of pleasure, watch his body disintegrate into wanton need, and touch the boy until there was nothing left in Potter’s mind but him.
He covered the boy’s slightly moist lips with his own, tasting once more the sweet notes in Potter’s hot cavern. He dominated the boy so easily, taking pleasure in the way his kisses seemed to make Potter lose his ability to do much more than react.
He easily maneuvered the boy beneath him, settling his larger body between Potter’s open legs and grinding down with full intent to arouse Potter. It was instantaneous. Potter was groaning, his hips jerking upwards into Severus’ and gyrating in a way that was anything but virginal.
If the boy knew just how incredibly that singular action affected Severus, he was sure to hold some power over him. Unfortunately, the boy affected him a little more than he would care to admit. It was as if he was back in his youth, rutting for the next pleasure as if he had nothing else in his life.
Severus was a busy man. He had an entire list of other priorities: potions to be made, lesson plans to be written, supplies to be gathered, and detentions to create. Yet, here he was, kissing with wild abandon and rutting like some hormonal teenager like those things were of little to no importance.
Repulsive.
*
Harry was slowly losing his hold on reality. Everything felt so incredible. The firmness meeting his own hard prick was almost as good as when Snape had used his hand to get him off. He found his hips jerking to help along the pleasure, increasing it until he was almost unable to breathe.
Harry fisted his hands into the other man’s shirt, pulling his body closer as his hips undulated and thrust upwards in order to reach his orgasm. One hand firmly grasped his hips, effectively slowing it, and the other hand made short work of the buttons of his shirt. Harry’s lips moved effortlessly against Snape’s, tasting anything and everything they could, seeking any small amount of pleasure as he slid his tongue along the Potion’s master’s.
Fingers skimmed briefly over the flesh of his torso, causing his body to arch backwards with the new sensation. Harry nibbled his lower lip, restraining the moans that were threatening to come with any more new sensations. Snape’s mouth trailed down from his mouth, tasting and nipping along his cheek, chin, and jaw. Suddenly moist heat surrounded one of his perked nipples, surprising a moan out of Harry. He never expected that part of him would be sensitive.
Snape’s tongue laved at the hard nub, eliciting more surprised moans from Harry, before he was treating the other wide with the same attention. Harry’s breathing had become arduous, coming in short pants and moans.
Harry wove his fingers into the man’s dark locks, pulling them away so that he could watch with captivated interest at the way Snape looked kissing and touching him. Snape’s face was focused on the pale skin it tasted, slowly trailing a tongue down the line of his abdomen and dipping briefly into his navel. Harry gasped sharply. It was almost too much to bear to watch his former professor, now colleague, do such forbidden things to him – things he could only ever fantasize about until now.
The slow progression was making Harry almost overcome with need for something. He wasn’t entirely sure what. It had never been addressed just how it was that wizards coupled. He was suddenly very nervous as Snape’s long fingers easily undid his trousers and pulled him out of them. He was no longer breathing as Snape continued to tease along the skin of his abdomen, fingering the hem of his boxers.
Snape’s eyes finally caught his own, watching him, or maybe seeking his consent. Harry wasn’t entirely sure. All he could do was bite his lower lip and try to breathe. He wanted this, but he was scared. He wasn’t really sure what was going on between them; he wasn’t even really sure if what Snape felt for him was on the same level. Going farther would mean giving a part of himself that he had given to no other. Harry was suddenly very hesitant.
Snape seemed to comprehend his hesitation, pulling away and eying Harry from above. “You only need to say the word, and we will stop, Harry.” Snape’s voice was much softer than Harry ever remembered it being. It could almost be describe as loving. Harry wanted to deny his hesitations, but that would mean that he was permitting Snape to continue. He wasn’t quite sure if that was what he wanted either.
So, Harry pulled his shirt closed, sending the message. Snape did nothing, simply allowed Harry to redress himself. Harry was dealing with bouts of self-hatred as he re-buttoned his shirt. He wished he didn’t put some romantic notion on the physical pleasures, but he had stayed a virgin this long because of such things. Giving everything away now would go against everything he believed about love. So he redressed, berating his foolishness.
“It is not foolish, Harry,” Snape said as he finished the buttons.
Harry stole a glance at the other wizard. “I really do care for you,” he said with a slight flush, ignoring the now pulsating erection in his pants. “Its…I just don’t want to rush everything. I don’t really know if your feelings are the same as mine yet, and I wouldn’t want to do anything I regretted. That you would regret.”
Snape seemed to ponder his words before the intense gaze settled onto Harry’s. “I am not usually a man who allows others a small window into my thoughts, Harry. However, since you seem to be mistaken on my feelings for you, allow me to clarify them.
“While I may not be a man that can appear as though I care for something deeply, I do and have to a great degree in my time. My feelings for you are, to my dismay, much more intense than I first believed. I would have never entertained the notion of pursuing you to such an extent if they were not.”
Harry was breathless. The words were like a warm bath on a cold day. They filled him so entirely with happiness that all he could do was smile – smile as though his world had never been so lovely. He never imagined that Snape would be capable of such a speech. Snape had mentioned before that he was not a romantic man, but Harry was starting to think differently. It would seem that Snape may be hopelessly romantic, like Harry was, and that had been made very clear when the older wizard had continued to love his mother despite her love of another man, and then ultimately, her death.
Harry moved forward of his on violation and pressed his lips gently against the other wizard, hoping to express just how happy those words had made him. He no longer doubted that Snape had feelings for him, and that those feelings were intense enough for Snape to want to deepen the relationship, but he knew that Snape was struggling with it; Harry could see it in the older man’s eyes when he spoke of those feelings. So, keeping it chaste, he kissed the man and determined that they would, in time, find just how alike their feelings were.
*
The next few days were devoid of much other than preparing for the arrival of the students. The meetings were a collection of what expectations McGonagall had for them and how she planned to proceed with the new year. Since it was well after the war, things had calmed down considerably and were now back to the old ways, well with a new variation that included their recent war.
They were sitting, talking about certain matters that had very little to do with Harry, when the door opened and in strolled the very person Harry could have gone his entire life without seeing again. Draco Malfoy.
The blonde was nearly as tall as Snape with hair that matched his late father, platinum blonde and gorgeously long. The three-piece suit he wore was standard with his line of the Ministry. He was some sort of representative, but Harry hardly cared enough to find out just of what. Still, Malfoy was full of his usual aristocratic airs as he walked purposefully into the room.
“Ah, Mister Malfoy,” McGonagall greeted.
Many of the other professors in the room seemed just as surprised to see Malfoy, including Snape whose jaw had grown taut, eyes darkening marginally as Malfoy tossed him an arrogant smile.
“Minerva,” Malfoy greeted with a small nod, “It is a pleasure to be here.” Harry’s face tightened as Malfoy glanced over to him with prideful smirk. “I gather you have informed the other professors of why I am here.”
“I was just about to,” she said coolly before turning to the rest of the staff. “Mister Malfoy will be staying at Hogwarts temporarily to conduct some business,” she started, “and will be partaking in some of the lessons this year. The Ministry is concerned with the recent educational decline, so Mister Malfoy will be collecting information on how lessons are conducted and the overall scores of the students this year. I expect that you will welcome him and offer any aide or information he should require during his stay.”
There was a collection of nods before Malfoy chose a seat beside Harry, causing a spark of anger to start in his belly. Harry ignored the other man as McGonagall finished their discussion from previous. Malfoy was watching with bored interest, managing his nails as if nothing really interested him. Harry nearly scoffed. He was the same arrogant prat he remembered.
So Malfoy managed to get a position in the Ministry; Harry hardly cared. Arrogant representative suited the blonde. Harry hoped their interaction would be brief this year, but from the sudden upturn of the blonde’s lips as he gazed over to Harry’s scowling face would say otherwise.
*
“Potter,” someone called as he left the meeting feeling suddenly tired from having a glaring match with Malfoy. He just wanted to flee to his rooms and prepare everything for the students to arrive tomorrow. However, the voice that called out to him caused his hopes to come crashing down. “Hardly polite to ignore me, Potter.”
He rounded on the taller wizard, suddenly angry at the incredible height difference and how it would impact the impression of his intended intimidation. “What is it, Malfoy?”
“I had hoped you could show me a few of your lesson plans for the year,” Malfoy said with disinterest. “Minerva tells me that you had quite the arrangement for the students. I am quite intrigued to see what the-Boy-Who-Lived-Again had in mind for the students.” There was a suggestive tone to Malfoy’s words. Harry found his rage was nearly overwhelming. However, this was business; he couldn’t possibly deny the request.
“Follow me then,” he said sounded a bit more defeated than he intended. “We need to make it quick because I was hoping to set up the classroom for tomorrow.”
“Such the diligent professor you are,” Malfoy replied sarcastically.
Harry glanced sharply at the taller wizard, finding a great many insults at the tip of his tongue but being unable to voice them.
They traveled, Harry slightly ahead of Malfoy, until they reached his classroom. He led Malfoy back to his office so he could recover his lesson plans. He had managed to make a few after completing the syllabus. He grabbed the syllabus for good measure. Tossing them over to Malfoy with little care if Malfoy was ready for them, he took a seat in his chair and ignored the other man in hopes that Malfoy would get the message.
He didn’t because he was immediately taking the seat at the other side and kicking up his feet on Harry’s desk. Harry bit back the urge to hex the other man. Instead, he crossed his arms and merely watched as Malfoy reviewed the paperwork.
“Quite impressive,” Malfoy finally said as he set the parchments down. “I had my reservations about how well you would do as a professor,” he admitted arrogantly, “but it would seem they were unfounded.”
Harry’s anger quickly disappeared into confusion. Did Malfoy just…compliment him?
“Oh,” he finally said still confused by the sudden compliment. “Thanks, I guess.”
Malfoy’s lip upturned slightly before he was regarding Harry with an unreadable expression. “Word is that you and Severus have become quite the partnership. Some may even say friends.” There was a knowing glint in Malfoy’s eyes that was making Harry’s stomach twist with unease. “You looked quite close in the Daily Inquiry.”
Harry shrugged with indifference. “That’s none of your bloody business, Malfoy.”
“Oh, but it is my business, Potter,” Malfoy said with an edge to his voice. “Severus is my godfather and quite important to me.”
Harry regarded Malfoy with a confused brow. “Important? Really? Are you pining after your own godfather, Malfoy?” This seemed to bring up the rage Harry associated with the blonde wizard.
Malfoy stood with easy grace, his taller form becoming suddenly intimidating as he looked down at Harry with a livid gaze. “Hardly, Potter. I like my partners to moan and beg as I dominate them. My tastes run to shorter, more combative personalities to which I can tame to my liking.”
Holy hell. Harry was suddenly very uncomfortable to the turn the conversation had taken. “Whatever, Malfoy. Stay out of my business. Is that all you needed?” His question was rhetorical. He wanted the other wizard out of his office and was close to hexing Malfoy in order to accomplish that.
Malfoy regarded Harry with another smirk before straightening himself. “I have no need of anything else, but I am sure I will have inquiries soon, Potter. Keep yourself available for me as I have a very busy schedule to keep.”
Harry scowled at the other. Malfoy left the office, leaving Harry to want to disinfect the entire room in his wake. That arrogant prat was going to make his life a living hell, no doubt about it. To think that Malfoy was in any way connected with Snape meant that if things continued to progress between them, Harry was in for a lifetime of unwanted Malfoy.
“Harry?” Another voice called, his anger melting as soon as the older wizard entered his office. “What was the reason for Draco’s visit?” There was an underline worry to Snape’s voice as he came towards Harry.
“Only to look over my lesson plans,” Harry responded evenly. It was probably best to leave the rest out. He may not like Malfoy, but it hardly seemed a good idea to start something between godfather and godson. So, he kept everything else to himself, hoping silently it was the last time Malfoy did or said anything to that regard. “Did you need something?”
Snape took a seat in front of Harry. “Not presently. I simply wondered if you were intending to visit my quarters this evening.”
“Are you asking me to visit?” Harry teased with a small smile.
Snape’s eyes darkened as his arms crossed tightly against his chest. “I am content to keep company with myself. I was merely curious.”
“Uh-huh,” Harry laughed softly. “If you ask nicely, I’ll come by tonight.”
Snape’s jaw tightened. “Impertinent brat.”
“Oh, you think it’s adorable,” Harry replied with another laugh.
Snape’s face morphed with disdain. “Hardly. I often ponder what compels me to intentionally invite you on a regular basis.”
“Because you are smitten with me,” Harry teased.
Snape’s face grew impossibly darker. Sneering, he said, “Or I have fallen victim to delusion.”
“That too,” Harry concurred with a chuckle. “Okay, I’ll come round tonight. Seven okay?”
“If you must,” Snape replied evenly before standing and leaving Harry’s office.
Almost forgetting the discomfort of Malfoy’s visit, Harry was eager for tonight to arrive, so he could enjoy the last night of freedom with Snape.
*
Harry had finally finished setting the classroom for the following day when the clock chimed six. He gathered a few things before heading to his quarters for a quick shower and shave. His footsteps echoed as he made his way over, smiling to himself the entire way.
His smile dropped as soon as the tall figure of Malfoy emerged from the other side of the corridor. Bloody hell. Harry ignored the other wizard, acting as if he was so lost to his thoughts that he barely registered that Malfoy was there.
“Potter,” the taller wizard greeted.
Harry sighed with disappointment. “Malfoy.” He started to navigate around the blonde wizard, but an arm obstructed him. He growled before glaring up at the other wizard. “What do you want?”
“You look quite happy, Potter. It is rather indecent.” Malfoy moved forward, bringing their bodies too close for Harry’s liking. “Where are you off to?”
“None of your bloody business.”
Malfoy’s grin grew impossibly wider as he stepped forward and forced Harry backwards with the movement. Harry’s hand immediately dropped into his pocket to retrieve his wand, but Malfoy was faster. Before he could register what was happening, his wrists were pinned tightly to the stone with his body sandwiched between Malfoy and the wall.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Malfoy!” he hissed, fighting the tight hold on his wrists. Was Malfoy always this ungodly strong? Merlin. He struggled against the body pinning him and hands holding him captive.
Malfoy’s grin never truly disappeared as he watched Harry squirm. “You look quite tempting with that flush, Potter.”
“Bugger off, Malfoy,” Harry growled as he continued to struggle against the hold. It was no use. He couldn’t overpower the other wizard, not without his wand. It frustrated him beyond rage. “If you don’t let go of me, I will make bloody sure you are in the infirmary for the rest of your time at Hogwarts. Now bugger off!”
Malfoy leaned forwards, his leg pressing and spreading Harry’s as he did. “I doubt that greatly, Potter. You are already responding. You enjoy this.”
“The fuck I do!” Harry groaned as the thigh between his legs rubbed insistently against him, causing unbidden shivers to run through him. Oh Merlin. He couldn’t possibly be feeling this. Suddenly disgusted with himself, he stopped fighting the hold.
Malfoy traced the shell of his ear with a hot tongue that once more caused unbidden sensations to run through Harry. Hands teased around his abdomen, touching and caressing him as a lover would which only caused Harry to feel more disgusted with the resulting tremors it caused. He couldn’t be possibly enjoying Malfoy’s touch. He loved Snape. He wanted Snape.
The assault continued, Harry’s body betraying him every time Malfoy would rub, lick, taste, or touch him. Harry wanted to deny the growing hardness in his trousers, disregard it as though it didn’t exist, but it was there, hard, ready, and yearning for Malfoy to do whatever he sought to do. It made Harry want to vomit. His body was reacting treacherously, and there wasn’t a bloody thing he could do about it.
“Much better,” Malfoy whispered seductively. “You can fight this all you want, Potter, but you were born to be submissive, to be dominated.” Harry bit his lip in disgust. When Malfoy finally pulled away, Harry was drowning in guilt and self-hatred. “Have a pleasant evening, Potter.”
Malfoy left him against the wall, and it took several long minutes before Harry was finding enough motivation to start heading once more towards his quarters. He was disgusted with himself, with Malfoy for doing it to him. The tenting of his trousers was a reminder of that disgust as he headed towards his room and locked himself inside. He couldn’t see Snape like this. He couldn’t possibly look at the man, proclaim his love, when he had reacted to Malfoy like some wanton wench.
Harry curled up in the bedding, trying his best to shake off the feeling of Malfoy’s touch. He rushed to the bathroom, scrubbing himself over and over to wipe away all of the places Malfoy had touched. He scrubbed so hard in places that his skin was left raw and red. He continued to scrub over the next several hours, convincing himself that if he rubbed hard enough, the reactions…the sensations he had as a result of Malfoy’s touches would disappear.
After his shower, he curled back up in bed and wallowed in self-disgust long into the early morning.
TBC…
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

New Beginnings