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An Urn For Her Ashes	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8570 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Five—Ill-Considered
            Severus thought he would end up coming up behind Potter and stripping him of his robes. He thought he would kiss him, and Potter would submit. He thought he would hold him down and move inside him as commandingly as he had moved so far when it came to defying Albus and setting the path of his own fate.
            When he considered it later, he didn’t imagine how he had thought such plans would endure close contact with Potter’s particular brand of fire.
            He came up behind Potter, that much was true, and then Potter spun around and kissed him. Severus gasped, the sparks of their contact coming to life in his mouth like someone had thrust a firework down his throat, and then Potter’s hands and fingers were busy on his face, outlining the curves of his cheeks, forcing his head back.
            Severus was the one who fell on the bed, and the boy the one who came down to cover him.
            But Potter wasn’t a boy, as Severus was reminded this time by an energetic turn on top of him and a hiss into his ear. “When I first started dreaming of you as someone who might be able to free me, I didn’t know you would be this tall. Are you always that tall?”
            Severus didn’t have his mouth free to answer in the next second, as it disappeared beneath another savage kiss, and then Potter squirmed around again and undid Severus’s belt buckle. His fingers flew, and Severus felt cloth being pushed aside and undone, and Potter’s mouth closed around him for one painful, blissful second.
            He tried to thrust up or seize Potter’s hair or otherwise take control of the situation, and Potter laughed soundlessly and rolled aside. Severus found his hand closing uselessly on air. Potter reared above him, balancing easily on his heels in a way that left him tantalizingly close to Severus but not actually touching him, and reached down to slide his own shirt over his head.
            “Watch and learn,” he whispered, and then tilted his head back. His red hair fell down, annoyingly straight, and Potter took out his wand and hissed a spell. His hair began to lengthen. Soon it was nearly down to the middle of his back. Severus didn’t see the utility of that until Potter dragged the hair over his bare cock.
            Then he very much did.
            It was a struggle with a whirlwind to get undressed, because half the time Potter wanted to help him out of his robes and half the time he wanted to pin Severus in place and laugh at him. At last, amid a fall of kisses and eager, scrambling fingers, Severus was naked, and Potter half-so. He still wore his shirt, and his eyes sparked as he sat back, seemingly daring Severus to risk taking more.
            Severus reached out and laid his hand on Potter’s chest, listening to the beat of Potter’s heart underneath his fingers. Potter was panting with excitement, and his lungs seemed to leap and throb against Severus’s palm.
            It was something he had come so close to never feeling. If Potter hadn’t survived, if Dumbledore hadn’t decided that he needed the Order’s help with the Horcruxes and killing Potter, if Potter had decided that he didn’t want to live or that his mother’s spirit was real and Dumbledore was only kind to him…
            Severus leaned up. Potter had stopped bouncing and was watching him with quiet eyes. Severus took his chin and kissed him.
            Potter seemed smart enough to know there was something different about this kiss, and he went with it, draping himself over Severus’s chest and flowing down like melting wax. His mouth was wholly delicious, wholly present. Severus felt something turn over inside him, and didn’t even want to waste time on figuring out what it was. He pulled Harry down with him, down towards the bed, and spread his hands out.
            “Don’t move,” he whispered into Harry’s ear.
            Harry trembled with something that might have been laughter. Severus knew why. He was crouched over Severus, lying on his chest, with his hands on either side of Severus’s head. It would be hard for him not to move, at least if Severus was going to go anywhere.
            But in the meantime, Severus had reached out and worked a strand of Harry’s bright red hair loose from his head. Harry winced as he plucked it, but said nothing. Severus braided it around his fingers, then cast a spell on it that he’d picked up from reading some of the stranger books in Lucius’s library.
            The hair at once pulled taut and quivering, and Harry did the same thing, a muffled exclamation leaving his throat.
            “Yes,” Severus whispered back to him, and then played the hair as if it was a grass whistle, pulling it, flexing it, blowing on it. Every time he did that, Harry trembled with the sensation of phantom fingers and breath working on him. He was panting so hard by now that Severus would have been concerned for his health if he didn’t know that Harry was tougher than that, to have survived what he’d survived.
            Besides, it made him look delicious enough that Severus couldn’t stand simply tormenting the hair. He laid it aside on the pillow and took Harry’s head between his hands, kissing him savagely.
            Harry returned at once to the kiss, and Severus thought about renewing his command not to move. But he couldn’t stand to, not when Harry was twisting above him like an eager dolphin and Severus’s hands had finally slipped beneath the last cloth Harry wore.
            Harry felt sleek where Severus touched him, as though he had never been scarred, although Severus knew that was false. He bit-kissed Harry’s lips again, and murmured, “Sit back and take our clothes off.”
            Harry did it, although the wild gladness in his eyes made it seem as if he wasn’t really obeying an order. Severus felt his neck arch. He didn’t want Harry to obey his orders, no. It would have seemed wrong if someone so free did it.
            If Lily did it?
            Severus dismissed that thought. Harry was not Lily, and even with his red hair long and tangling around him, he was not like her. Severus found it hard to imagine why Dumbledore and the rest thought Harry was actually possessed by his mother’s spirit. When you looked at Harry’s face, it was very different.
            Harry finally finished getting them naked and lay back down on top of Severus. Severus found himself gasping as he raked his fingers up and down Harry’s sides. No, there were no scars there, though there might be a few birthmarks. Harry was all lithe and twisting muscle, not soft, but unmarked by the world.
            How Severus was going to enjoy giving him a few marks to react to!
            Harry sat back with a heavy look in his eyes, and Severus promptly bit his mouth again. Then he said, “You know the way of things between two men?”
            “Oh, yeah,” Harry said. “That was one of the things I read up on. You can imagine how bored I got, reading about sex that I didn’t think I’d ever get to have.” He tossed Severus a look that made Severus’s chest feel as if it was on fire, and then he picked up his wand and murmured something.
            To Severus’s confusion, no oil or unguent appeared in Harry’s hand. He glanced at him, and Harry winked and said, “It’s on here.” He held up his gleaming wand, balanced himself carefully with one hand on Severus’s shoulder, and then eased the wand behind him and into himself.
            Severus could have fainted then. He didn’t, but the dark, distant buzzing in his head made him feel as if he was on the verge of it, and he had to watch motionless as Harry began to fuck himself steadily with his wand.
            “Yeah—right—there,” Harry said, spacing his words out as though he assumed he was going to suffer if he didn’t. “Yeah.” He moaned as the wand slid in deeply, and Severus rolled him gently to the side so that he knelt now on the bed, because he couldn’t stand not being allowed to watch anymore.
            Harry clenched his hand on the sheets and thrust the wand in even harder from his new angle. Severus swallowed. It felt as though he had eaten half the horrible essays that he was forced to mark every day. “Doesn’t that hurt?” he whispered.
            “Oh,” said Harry, opening glazed eyes and turning his head so he could lock gazes with Severus. “Yeah, it does. But that only makes it better, you know?” And he closed his eyes and thrust home again.
            Severus performed the spell that would give him his own handful of lube without taking his gaze from Harry’s hole and pumping wand. There was so much thickness in his throat that he didn’t think he could speak around it. And maybe he didn’t have to. Not when Harry was lying here and giving himself over fully to Severus, spreading his legs and humping around his wand.
            Severus knew Harry was probably a virgin. Like he said, what chances would he have had to escape from Albus’s strict watch? But he was eager to give it up, from the way he rolled and hissed on his wand.
            And the way that he immediately settled backwards when Severus reached for him, slick hands on his hips. Harry rolled his hips without pause, sitting on Severus’s cock with a small moan and grunt. Severus had to pull back to readjust himself a few times, but it was still—
            Overwhelming.
            Severus thought he would succumb to the pleasure after an embarrassingly short time, and he grabbed Harry’s shoulder savagely to calm himself down. Harry turned his head and gave him a smile that gleamed as if under moonlight.
            “It’s all right,” he said. “Everything you can do to me reminds me that I’m still alive.”
            It was as close to permission as Severus needed or was ever likely to get. He leaned forwards and laid his jaw on Harry’s shoulder, then dug his nails in. Harry only shuddered and tilted his head back further, rocking fervently, as if he wanted to help Severus grind all the way through him and into the center of his body.
            Severus was willing to try. He was hot, and the only thing that felt as if it could relieve him was driving into Harry. He did it again, and again, and again. And then Harry reached back and began to “help” by positioning himself so that he was fucking Severus with his arse and his back.
            They twisted and wrestled back and forth, sometimes sitting up with Harry in Severus’s lap, sometimes sprawled more on their sides, and sometimes in the middle of positions passing through one of those things that Severus couldn’t really define. What he knew was that the heat and the pace had both increased, and he couldn’t stop panting, couldn’t stop thinking about how much he was enjoying this.
            Now and then a thought that had the name Lily in it would flash through his head. But it never stayed.
            Now he was up on his knees with Harry bent on his knees before him, clutching the headboard and snarling incoherent things at Severus over his shoulder. Severus paused, mastering his own restless desire to thrust wildly, and then began making short, controlled motions into Harry. Predictably, Harry swung around, clawing for him as if he wanted to slice Severus’s throat open.
            “No, wait, feel,” said Severus, and steered Harry back to the headboard, slamming his hands into place, before he continued. The lingering torment of his own slowness, the fact that he wanted to do so many things to Harry and was forcing himself not to, only made the heat blaze further and faster beneath his skin.
            Harry did it, although the way his muscles were quivering, he was dying to go ahead and speed things up. Severus rode him gently, with his hand splayed out on Harry’s chest. He could feel his skin that way, and the small stirring, standing hairs, and how his lungs and his heart worked.
            He could feel Harry in so many ways, surrounding him, on top of him, listening to him, that coming was almost an afterthought. He only knew that suddenly his thrusts had sped up again, without any planning on his own part at all, and then he was freefalling through pleasure and into sweaty darkness.
            Severus gave a swift gasp and opened his eyes.
            Harry was still kneeling on the bed in front of him, his head hanging a little. For a moment, Severus thought he had committed the gaffe of coming without making sure his partner did, and then he saw the way Harry’s neck curved and the wetness on the bed in front of him. Severus relaxed and rolled to the side, gathering Harry to him.
            The enchantment that made Harry’s hair longer and so much like Lily’s had faded. Severus combed his fingers through the redness of it and watched it in silent, secret wonder. He wondered what would happen to it, and the color of Harry’s eyes, and the shape of his face, if he succeeded in his plot to destroy the memories of Lily that lingered in his mind.
            Would it matter?
            No, Severus decided slowly. He might have been attracted to Harry in the first place because of how much he looked like Lily, but the way he spoke, moved, felt, tasted, and leaped into sex was all different from how Severus had known Lily (or imagined Lily).
            This would never be true love in the way that Severus had once thought he would have with his best friend. But it wouldn’t be simply useless or dangerous or baseless, either. He could splay his hands out on Harry’s belly and face and move them back and forth, fingers digging in, and feel him quiver, and know that he was holding the living in his hands.
            And the living must always triumph over the dead.
            Severus dropped off to sleep without the wish to dream of Lily that he had had every night for the past sixteen years. It was something.
*
            “How curious, Severus.”
            The Dark Lord’s voice was a chill that curled and cooled around Severus’s heart. He wouldn’t have been surprised to stand up with a lump of ice in his chest, but he had never done so yet. He simply reinforced his Occlumency shields and replied as calmly as he could.
            “Yes, my Lord. I had thought that I had perfected the potion and therefore it would not explode, but I had not.” Severus grimaced. “It seems that the ingredient I had thought incidental to the potion was necessary after all.”
            “Tell me what ingredient that is,” the Dark Lord purred, leaning closer. “Tell me what it is meant to do.”
            “A drop of blood from the scar on the Potter boy’s head,” Severus said, and shook his head. “Albus had put him to brewing potions with me as a punishment—for one or the both of us I do not know. The boy wounded himself, because of course he did.” It required no effort to summon up a sneer, because in general Severus thought Albus’s raising of Harry left much to be desired. “Raising a naïve weapon does not make the weapon good at Potions.”
            “And then?” The Dark Lord was almost swaying in his seat now, the motion echoed by Nagini swaying at one side of the throne.
            “The blood fell into the potion,” said Severus. “I thought it would explode, of course, because the boy had already insisted on adding Chinese Fireball claw scrapings. He had ‘read something in a book’ that told him they would make a good potion, apparently.” Severus had become adept at conveying his scorn for idiotic Potions knowledge without rolling his eyes. “But the potion stabilized. I was convinced it was something other than the blood, that the blood was a coincidence.”
            “It is not,” said the Dark Lord, and his fingers had curled over the arms of his chair. He had new additions to them now, Severus saw. Claws, which sparkled in the light and made the tapping noise like small sickles.
            “No,” Severus admitted. “And it is a potion that might domesticate dragons, my Lord.” He lowered his voice and looked around as if afraid that someone other than Nagini might overhear them, although he knew there were no other Death Eaters near the Dark Lord right now. “But I could not be sure until now, and I did not wish to present you with a potion that did not work.”
            “Wise of you, Severus,” the Dark Lord said, with such light glinting from his mouth that Severus was sure he had also done something to his teeth. “I wish others of my servants were as wise.” He pondered a moment, his claws lightly scraping and dancing along the throne, while Severus sat as still as he could and tried to make it look like his eyes were respectfully lowered.
            “Stay close to the boy,” the Dark Lord said at last. “Let him think that he has done nothing remarkable, but prepare yourself for the moment when we might need to collect more of his blood.” He chuckled softly. “Who would have known that it was with the addition of something of mine that the boy would become remarkable?”
            “Only those who saw past the mystique cloaking his parents, my Lord,” Severus said at once. “Most would think that the son of Lily Evans and James Potter could not help but be remarkable.”
            More of an effort to add the sneer to his voice as normal, even though so little had changed. He was glad that this was likely to end with either the death of the Dark Lord or Severus’s own flight from the war. The addition of Harry to his life meant he could not be as flawless a spy any longer.
            Well-aware of Severus’s feelings towards both Lily and James, the Dark Lord only laughed again in delighted response and reached out to lay his hand on Severus’s forehead. Severus held still as he felt those claws come close to scraping bone. “Heed my directives. Obey only me.”
            With most Death Eaters, those words would have had the force of compulsion, but Severus had the habit of long years of training and an iron will to knock them down. He held still and only shuddered in the innermost parts of his soul where the Dark Lord could not see.
            He would survive. And Harry would. That was no longer in doubt.
*
            “We will retrieve the first of the Horcruxes this evening.”
            Albus’s calm announcement had taken the Order by surprise. But Severus was glad that at least one of them immediately spoke up.
            “And what kind of danger to Harry would that involve?” Molly Weasley demanded, her eyes snapping such fire that Albus turned to her in astonishment. “Broken limbs? Torture and capture? Something else?”
            Albus started and looked at her in a way that made Severus think he had never prepared for any opposition from that quarter. Foolish. If Severus and Harry had not gone to her, Molly would probably have come up, on her own, with the notion that it was repugnant for a child to be sacrificed to the war.
            “I saw my sons die.” Molly was choking, but she stood up and faced Albus with tearless eyes. “I saw Fred and George standing in front of six Death Eaters, the way—the way my brothers did.” Now there was a gleam of tears at the edge of her eyes, but her voice still went on, strong and pitiless. “And I saw them turned into shreds of skin and blood and ash. I won’t let you sacrifice someone else their age, Albus, someone who’s barely begun to live. Not again.”
            “But he has lived, Molly.” Albus’s voice was so soft, almost sweet, the voice of someone who had reasonable arguments and was being confronted by unreasonable emotion. Severus saw him reach a hand out, then pull it back with a little frown. He seemed to be watching Molly closely for the signs of some spell or condition. “He’s lived twice as long as it seems, since he has the experience of his mother’s life in his head as well.”
            Harry lifted his head abruptly and studied a brick in the wall. Severus almost snorted. Someone else would take it as an attempt to nobly remove himself from the situation. Severus was the one who saw the tension in that curved and arched neck, behind those green eyes.
            Well, perhaps not the only one. Granger said abruptly, “Does Harry really have to die, Headmaster?”
            “I’m afraid so, my dear child,” said Albus, and turned and smiled mistily at her. “There is no other way to destroy the Horcrux.”
            “How much have you researched that?” Molly demanded. “And are you sure? Because if there’s a chance we could save him and we let him die anyway, we’re really no better than the Death Eaters.”
            Severus concealed a chuckle. If he had said something like that, the bolt would not have gone home. But it seemed it was unexpected enough from Molly’s mouth to make the other Order members look uneasy.
            “Molly’s right about that, Albus,” said Arthur at last, and reached out to put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We’ve got to make sure that we’ve explored all the other options.”
            “Of course I have,” said Albus, and his eyes drifted back and forth over them and his voice became moving, the magnificent voice Severus had so often heard when he wanted to impress the other Order members or win them over. “Do you think I would have done this if anything else had occurred to me? Do you think I didn’t spend hours in research, trying to find some other way than what my instincts told me would happen? I rebelled against those instincts. I did all I could. I would have summoned any of you to my side in an instant if I thought you would tell me something else.”
            Arthur hesitated, but Molly looked as unmoved as Harry. Severus did take a moment to wonder how Harry had stood it by himself for so long, with no allies and that voice pouring honeyed words into his ears.
            Perhaps it was simply the survival instinct, that wish not to die.
            Severus didn’t think it was only that, of course. Someone whom he chose to take to his bed would be more remarkable than that, with the same sort of cleverness that Harry had already demonstrated about Potions. But he needed to sound convincing if someone asked him a point-blank question about his connection to Harry and he had to deny it. It couldn’t hurt to practice.
            “And of course,” Albus continued, “Lily Potter was willing to sacrifice herself for her son. If she is willing to do it again, if we can draw out the Horcrux and use her death to destroy it, then I will do it in a heartbeat.”
            Her sacrifice has to be willing, but Harry’s doesn’t have to be? Severus caught Harry’s eye, and understood in a second another reason that Harry had decided to rebel. Being told, day in and day out, that it was only his mother’s memories that made him special, not that there was any intrinsic worth or value to his own life, would probably alter his perceptions quickly.
            Arthur settled back, and Molly frowned. “I want to know what kind of magical theory you came up with to make this work, Albus. I hate to think that anyone else is going to die in pursuit of this strange goal.”
            And as Albus spoke, although Severus saw little chance that he would convert Molly, Severus kept an eye on Harry. He was standing as poised as a great stag, perhaps as calm if you only saw him from the outside, and didn’t realize those eyes were as cold and hard as green marble.
            To be raised among justifications and hopes and someone trying to turn you into a symbol might be worse than being raised around lies about getting to survive…
            Even if Molly was converted, even if they could not fool the Dark Lord, even if he stood alone, Severus realized, Harry Potter was not going to lie down on the altar and bare his throat to sacrificial knife.
            And Severus would stand behind him.
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An Urn For Her Ashes