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Snape's Curse	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 24342 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Harry Potter fandom, JKR's characters or the books and movies of the series. This is purely fiction and I make NO money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I love them-- they are such sweet nectar to my poor muse that just suffered a computer crash. And then I spent days flat on my back (and not in the happy, fun way!) so, sorry for the long wait. I got an especially lovely comment from “D.R.” that said my Snape was a lot like canon. (Never felt more complimented and chuffed! :) And thank you all for reading and following along my crazy journey….

Occlumency’s curse (part 4)

“We are going to the Chamber tomorrow,” Snape opened the conversation with a small self-satisfied smile after staying quiet a good long while.

He shyly kept his face downcast as he unconsciously smoothed his robes and briefly touched his hair. Albus could practically see the gears turning in his colleague’s head that he planned to wash his lank, potion-fumed locks later in preparation for the next afternoon. Dumbledore decided to test the theory he was forming based on these clues:

Yep, Severus didn’t even sneer when he made the suggestion of dissolving a lemon drop in his tea, jovially stating that he could get his lemon and sugar in one ‘swell foop’—AND he’d forgone any scorn at his whimsical butchering of the English language or snarky rebuttal about how Albus knew ‘damn well he didn’t like sweets!’

The Headmaster had no need to read his mind to tell that all was going according to plan, but he refrained from remarking how it looked like Severus was smitten to go on a first date like a fifth year-- that would ruin everything. He’d just let him sort that out on his own. Instead, he simply silently twinkled, eagerly awaiting what else Severus would reveal during their meeting.

“He managed a Selective Shield in our last lesson.” To anyone who didn’t know the man well, that statement would come across as nonchalant and indifferent, but Albus could tell he was impressed and proud; it was the rare shimmer that flickered in the onyx depths of his eyes. “And Potter confessed to me that it was he who cast the Patronus that freed Black….”

The aged wizard leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin, maybe he’d misjudged that flicker. His damage control could be risky and tricky, depending on how Snape chose to deal with this sensitive information. He took a breath to speak, but Snape interrupted.

“Don’t,” he held up a hand to stave off his reply. “I already know what you’re going to say and for once, I absolutely agree with you.” Dumbledore was surprised, judging by the Potion Master’s vehement and vicious reaction that fateful night two years ago, but was beyond pleased and relieved.

“At the time, I’ll admit I was…. less than pleased with the turn of events.” Albus chuckled at the understatement and Severus scowled at him. “Although, now, finally having more information,” he gave Dumbledore a pointed look, “I see it was for the best.” Albus gave a short nod.

“Lupin and Black, despite my personal feelings for them, have proved valuable to the war effort. Only you, old man, would have such foresight in your machinations….” He admitted with a certain fondness for his mentor. “I concede that the illegal use of a time-turner proved an effective course of action to free two innocent lives.”

“I’m glad you see it that way Severus. I doubted that two years ago you would have seen the big picture over your own history and grudges.”

“Indeed. Although I still despise the Black mutt, he paid quite a price those twelve years in Azkaban. And I realize your covering for the children was for the best. It simply would not do for Potter and Miss Granger to be expelled; their continued education it vital to defeating the Dark Lord. Potter has the chutzpah and determination he needs, if not the skills, and he certainly requires the counsel of the girl’s brain and keen intellect if he stands any chance at succeeding.”

Dumbledore grinned, “Starting to appreciate the positive attributes of Gryffindors then?”

“Hush it, you old coot!” Severus pursed his lips and huffed out his substantial nose. “I can appreciate admirable qualities wherever they may come from! Moxie, intelligence, power….”

Snape’s voice and eyes grew distant. “A Patronus deflecting a hundred dementors….”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. Albus watched in fascination as his surrogate son’s expression melted into glazed reverence, unaware of the breathy moan he uttered beyond his control, “The power….” The Headmaster smiled knowingly; this was as close to gushing as the stoic man got and he found it incredibly endearing.

After a few more minutes of mutual introspection and contemplation, Severus seemed to come back to himself with a brisk shake of his head. “He is making progress, slowly, but he still lets me get in too far before he can effectively Occlude. It appears his ability is closely linked with memories and events he fears me discovering most.”

Albus smiled benignly, “Might I remind you about what precipitated your own breakthrough moment? It was the mere mention of James and Lily that gave you the fortitude to withstand me.”

Severus pondered on that thought—was a secret, taboo crush the key? It certainly had been for him. He got that faraway look again, “Interesting. It was the dredging up of his first kiss that produced the Selective Shield….” He mused to himself. “Perhaps the threat of his sexual secrets will provide the extra push he requires.” Dumbledore sparkled at that. “Not that I want to know any of that puerile nonsense!” he forcefully asserted to his mentor, “But maybe that is the motivation he needs….”

Albus decided it was time for the next phase to begin. “Of course, of course! But have you even tried to tell him what to visualize to keep you out? Or have you just been rooting around in his life story with impunity?” Severus paled, as much as the sallow man could beyond his norm (Damn! The old man knows me too well!) The wily Headmaster already knew the answer to that beforehand, but his underling’s guilty expression told him all he needed to cement it.

It had been obvious to Dumbledore that Severus had been taking some level of liberties so far with the training, but it suited the older wizard’s schemes for his surrogate sons just fine. In fact, he’d counted on Snape to proceed in this way, taking in all sorts of facts first hand that would show him the real Harry—to get to know the young Gryffindor while thinking he was still being harsh in the beginning, then gently coming around in his opinion of the lad all on his own. Perfect!

He pounded the last nail in the coffin to nudge his boys in the right direction-- With a quirked raised eyebrow, the venerable Headmaster asked, “Now who has been keeping vital information from Harry, thus hampering his success?”

****

Harry once again gathered up his hand lotion and drew his drapes before bed, only to find Ron sniggering at him.

“What?!” he seethed through the last tiny gap in the curtains he was about to seal.

His best mate smirked, “Just funny how all of a sudden you’re a nightly tosser now is all.”

“Shut up!” Harry was embarrassed enough as it was, he didn’t need a spotlight shone on it. “Snape said it was best for clearing my mind before sleep, to get my mind blank….”

“EURGH!” The redhead practically gagged in disgust. “How could you even do it with the thought of that greasy git in on the brain?”

Harry angrily yanked the cloth closed and cast a silencing charm. “You’d be surprised,” he muttered.

As usual, he pictured the man—strong, sexy yet somehow strangely yielding, as he’d felt the shift in their dynamic recently. He couldn’t help but replay Snape’s velvet tones voicing certain suggestive words that had made his concentration ebb at the time they were spoken. (So what if they were taken out of context?—he could HEAR them resonate in his mind’s ear and thud in his veins):

Impressive…. vital part…. Potter. Very well, I will do as you wish…. The young Gryffindor shuddered as he started pulling on his cock, already hard from those first thoughts alone. He searched his memory for more innuendo, whether it was intentional or not, there were things said in that rich baritone that could make his knees weak no matter how innocuous the circumstances:

Sexual prowess…. That is the most desirable talent of all…. Show me the entrance, open it and then take me…. Try to push back against my intrusion…. Harry stroked harder, fervent desire pooling in his groin. He cupped his balls then slicked up a digit along his shaft and poked the tentative finger inside his untested pucker (it was easier access when he bore down with his ass muscles!):

Remarkable…. Yes, that’s perfect…. Been gentle in my penetration…. He sped up, adding a second finger tip and brushing his sac with his forearm as he heard his professor’s imperious tone washing over his flushed skin…. probing, pushing…. All his senses were heightened to the extreme:

Satisfied…. He heard the purr, and imagined being able to bring Snape off—That made him so close! One more jerking tug and then he remembered the most titillating-- truly felt for once (and not sarcastic)-- words ever directed at him from Snape, sensually dripping from those lips that haunted his dreams:

Thank you.

He came with an uncontrollable shout.

****

Both wizards, nervous and excited, made their way to the second floor where those ominous messages had been written on the corridor walls three years ago. Severus was hiding his agitation quite well, but Harry was jittery and fidgeting. Breaking the silence, Snape asked his student if he was really all right with going back to the morbid scene of his second year battle.

Harry startled at the uncharacteristic concern from his Potion Master. He couldn’t tell the object of his desire that he was anxious about being alone with him beyond a strictly academic context. Ruminating on that for a second, Harry then laughed, steering the focus away from the real reason for his nerves. “It was hardly the worst thing I’ve ever had to face, Professor.” His flippant attitude clouded over and became subdued, “At least I was successful that time-- not like letting Wormtail escape or helplessly watching Cedric die and Voldemort getting a body again because of my blood….”

Severus’ left eye twitched at how the young man beside him accepted how much he now knew about him and was so resigned about all he’d been through; Severus was amazed all over again. Harry turned away abruptly and pushed open the door to a girl’s bathroom. “Sir?” He gestured for Snape to enter.

Severus raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the location—was he being made the butt of some colossal joke? “A girl’s lavatory?!” He spat, incensed. Then the riled teacher lashed out and demanded, “You dare make fun of me?!” He was disappointed and humiliated; his hopes of a collaboration in good faith dashed! Tricked by an arrogant, piddling shit Potter again!

Harry’s green eyes went wide in hurt surprise and confusion—where had that come from? “What? No! Sir, it’s in here. That sink there,” he shakily pointed towards the far wall, “the one with the snake carving on the pipe!”

Snape took a moment to analyze the apparent desperation from The-Boy-Who-Lived and determined he was truly sincere. He tamped his embarrassment down over the inappropriate outburst and muttered, “I—uh—it’s just difficult to believe the huge, grand, myth surrounding the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets would be in a lowly girl’s toilet. What the hell was Salazar thinking?”

Harry shrugged, just glad that Snape didn’t seem angry anymore, “I dunno. Probably that no one would ever figure to look here. That’s just it, you know? Everyone would be searching for something a lot more impressive and his secret was hiding in plain sight the whole time. I bet he thought that was funny, getting the last laugh for centuries….” Harry motioned them over and knelt under the sink he’d indicated and fingered a crudely etched outline of a snake on the exposed U-bend.

That actually made a lot of sense-- in a cunning, deceptive, Slytherin kind of way. Severus nodded, impressed and was chagrined that he hadn’t thought of it that way. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before he mumbled in a low growl, hoping to throw the young man off from his irrational, overly defensive reaction, “That was a very Slytherin observation of you to make, Potter.”

“Oh, well,” He answered in an off-hand way, “I was almost sorted in your house after all. Guess I might have a few traits…,” and kept tracing the snake. He didn’t see the look of shock that had stricken the normally impassive man behind him. Snape’s mouth actually gaped open, then snapped shut then opened again to ask about that but was thoroughly stunned and immobilized as if he’d been Stupefied. Then Harry began speaking Parseltongue to open the gateway.

“Hssshshssssyehhhth,” he intoned and Severus’ blood instantly rushed into his penis by that brief hiss spilling from those pouty lips and sinful tongue. He felt as if the flame under his cauldron had been suddenly turned up four shades too many and congealed the precious ‘ingredients’ between his thighs. His throat made an indistinguishable gurgling noise (sounding suspiciously like a garbled ‘Oh god!’) that was thankfully covered by the scraping of porcelain and tile rearranging itself.

Harry scooted back, causing Snape to falter to the side to avoid the boy’s head colliding with his impossibly stiff cock. “Seeesaaahthyyahesh?” Harry had swiveled around and was now looking up at his Professor questioningly.

Snape tore his gaze from the tunnel exposed in the floor, big enough for a man to fit through and weakly whispered, “English?” He was never more glad he was wearing such heavy, concealing robes since Harry was on his knees before him, face at crotch level.

Harry looked a bit sheepish, “Oh, sorry, it’s hard.” Snape gulped, his beetle-black eyes squinting in a slight panic. “Going back and forth with languages like that-- I can’t tell which is which. I don’t even know when I’m doing it.” Severus inwardly groaned (you sure don’t know the effect you are having on me, you succulent little incubus!).

“Well, this is it,” Harry said, going towards the famed, mysterious entrance. “It’s a bit dirty, but fun going down.” And with that, he took a fearless leap and disappeared into the bowels of the castle.

Snape stood stock-still for a good long minute, trying to master his filthy thoughts that Harry’s words had conjured in his mind. He could hear the boyish whoops of glee growing fainter and fainter and then nothing. Snape had a moment of worry that there might still be dangers lurking below and hurtled himself into the pipe after his charge.

He let out an undignified squeak as he was sliding faster and faster along slimy wet tiles; so much for the extra grooming he’d done that morning he thought dryly. Just when he was wondering what would happen at the end, the tube went level and shot him out-- ass over teakettle, with an “oof”— straight into a gangly tangle of limbs that weren’t entirely all his own.

It appeared that he had landed on Potter. To be more precise, he landed on all fours in between the young man’s spread legs! (Good lord!) He hastened to disentangle himself, pretending his obviously aroused manhood had not just been pressed up against the corresponding bit on the boy.

Potter’s green eyes sparkled as he grinned and panted, lying prone on the bone littered floor. “Exciting, yeah?” then began picking himself up. Both wizards dusted off their clothes in silence, thankful for the eerie low light that hid their flushed faces and bulging trousers in shadows.

Without waiting for an answer, Harry loped off to the right and scrambled over a pile of rock rubble; he used this time to will away the erection he got when Snape had been so close to him and he thought he felt….for a split second…. (Stop! Quit thinking of that or it will never go away! Think un-sexy thoughts!) Little did he know that Snape, behind him-- while getting a sublime view of his ass-- was having a similar inner turmoil.

“This is where Lockhart (There, definitely a boner-killing subject) ‘Obliviated’ himself with Ron’s stolen wand…,” Harry remarked casually as he played the odd role of ‘tour guide’ and indicated the rather freshly broken surface of the ceiling.

“Slowed us down for getting to Ginny…,” Harry grumbled, shifting more chunks from the small passage at the top of the heap so that the gap would now be big enough for the two wizards who were considerably larger than his twelve year old self. Struggling with a mid-sized boulder, Harry blurted, “That stupid git!”

Snape chuckled (well, it was more like two puffed amused breaths), and Harry jumped at the sound. A laugh! Snape laughed! “That man,” Severus started and sighed, trying to find the right words, “is an idiot.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. Severus thought it was the most delightful sound he’d ever heard and wanted to more of it so he continued as he helped levitate some stones. “We all had our suspicions he was a fraud, but Albus was hard-pressed to find someone to fill the post. The hopeless incompetent really brought his miserable fate upon himself, didn’t he?”

Harry snickered, filled with pleasure at this new camaraderie. “Yeah, he did. You know, he actually admitted he never did any of the stuff in his books.” And they spent a few more minutes abusing the foolishness of the addled wizard, recounting his grandiose self-appointed worth and then obvious short-comings until they made it through the cave-in and came upon a solid wall. Two entwined serpents were carved on the rough-hewn expanse-- one black, one red-- their eyes set with great glinting emeralds and scales painted in mesmerizing sliver and gold hues. All light conversation faded away in an instant.

“Hssshshssssyehhhth,” cut across Severus’ hush of awe. The wall unlatched as the snakes parted their coils from one another, and the two panels slid away and opened to a very long, dimly lit chamber. There were stone serpent statues along the walls but the Potion Master barely spared a spark of attention to his surroundings; he was solely focused on the hulking mass he could see up ahead.

Severus’ blood was pounding in his ears as he strode towards the corpse. Casting a few revealing spells to detect other dangers and coming up clean, he reached the Basilisk and studied the bounty before him. Harry just watched the intensity radiating off his teacher in thick, intoxicating waves, and let him have his moment.

“Potter…. I…. There are no words to express…. my gratitude…. I….” He clapped his fingers to his lips and was breathless. “It’s magnificent…. Oh god…,” he crooned as he circled the beast, surveying it with reverence; his entranced, honeyed tone caused Harry to harden once more. “Yesssss…,” he purred, his knees buckling, apparently finding something of great value on the decaying body. Harry almost creamed his jeans at the open expression and little whimpers of passion being displayed by the normally closed-off man.

Finally, Snape calmed enough to start scribbling frantic notes in a journal, ignoring everything but his task. While the enamored professor murmured and mumbled to himself along with his writing, Harry wandered around the Chamber, looking closer at all that he’d been too busy to notice the last time he’d been there. He was just about to investigate a hidden door when Snape announced he was ready to leave.

Snape levitated them up the tube, Harry clinging to him tightly. All the closeness and excitement had them hard, but both lost in their own thoughts. When they emerged in Myrtle’s bathroom, Harry sealed the Chamber and looked up at his Professor for further instruction.

Snape’s mind was a million miles away, as evidenced by him still holding Harry around his shoulders for longer than necessary. “I don’t want to impinge on your study time, but can we can go together next week, same time? With the appropriate supplies?”

Harry bobbed his head enthusiastically, not trusting himself to speak and reluctantly disengaged from his infatuation’s arms. Severus finally caught a glimpse of the both of them in the mirror and snorted; they were coated in sludge and dust. “Look at this. Time for a shower, yes?”

They nodded to each other and parted ways, both eager to wash up and jerk off.

****

Harry arrived to their next Occlumency lesson freshly wanked. His new method of thinking about Snape and his words proved extremely effective and got him off in the bathroom in record time. (At first, Ron thought he was throwing up or just gathering his wits about him to stomach the greasy git, bat of the dungeons. But now he wasn’t so sure).

As the two wizards came face to face again after their little excursion under the castle, alone together once more in the classroom, the stern professor cut right to the chase to begin the lesson. “We seem to have established that you are only able to repel me from your mind under duress, when you are most afraid of what I might find.” He stated this as an irrefutable fact, back in his cold professorial mode and it did not bode well for Harry.

Severus paced circles around his quarry, like a hunter moving in for the kill. It seemed almost cruel to intrude on the boy’s budding sexuality, however intriguing his libido might find it. He hated that he seemed so sadistic towards his protégé (What?! Did he just think protégé? Though he supposed Harry was now, in a way, considering that he was teaching the boy Occlumency and they were both inextricably bound by their unique positions in this chess game of a war). “What is it you most fear to be revealed from your most private thoughts, hmmm Potter?”

Try as he might to clear his head, Harry’s thoughts immediately shot to the worst secrets he had to hide and lamented the phenomena of when someone says “don’t think about such-and-such a thing” that it automatically means you can’t help but think of it. Naturally, his brain centered on his sexual feelings for the man who was currently about to prey on his mind. He winced at the prospect of what Snape might witness.

Severus let a sneaky sneer cross his lips as he saw his student start to sweat. He envisioned the general area of the Amygdala and dopamine centers of the human brain and purred, “Legilimens!”:

Harry was suddenly floundering in a vague memory of touching himself, experimentally fondling his turgid penis in the shower, plucking curiously at the hair that was starting to grow….

Mortified, Harry pushed with all his power to put a hard protective shell around that stream of consciousness; Severus withdrew after bouncing off the make-shift dam. When Harry opened his eyes, he found Snape’s amused smirk teasing him. “Much quicker there, Potter, seems we’ve hit the nail on the head.” Now that he knew exactly where to find the crux of the boy’s convoluted Limbic System, he homed in on it (the Cingulate Gyrus was positively gyrating with emotion, luring the assault to it like a beacon).

He didn’t give his student any moments of recovery and he recklessly dove back in without warning:

Harry’s sense memories surrounding sex were a chaotic, primeval mélange of jumbled images, instincts and conflicting feelings—

They were both drowning in a deluge of embarrassment at uncontrollable erections and the beginnings of a pubescent body changing. There was an alternating tidal-like ebb and flow of confusion and unnamed want, helplessness and urgent hungers, fear and naïve temptation, awkwardness and inexplicable longings, denial and sexual tingles…. Swept into an undertow, visual snippets coursed by, of the inevitable waking with pajamas sticky to watching that youthful hand start discovering his own cock.

But oddly enough, there were brief spurts of Snape’s own voice floating in and out of the torrential downpour of history and sexual identity, cascading flashes of his own eyes, lips, face, hands and body sprinkled within the contrary spirals of cognition. All churned up in the bubbling froth was an overpowering fascination. And then there was the spilling of profound sensations of physical pleasure and crashing waves of yearning….

Snape was violently pushed that time by a sudden burst of wild magic, so much so that he was thrown back, stumbling on his feet. He barely made it to land in his chair with a modicum of his usual grace.

Interesting…. And strange—Why were there things associated with him all wrapped up in this part of the boy’s psyche? Granted, that particular structure of the primitive brain was prone to be messy and disorganized and, well, primitive, but dare he hope that his earlier wish and obsession might be true? Was his Potter attracted to him?

Harry sat on the floor, dazed, praying to whatever deity that might take pity on him that that last bout was vague enough that Snape wouldn’t put the pieces together. He could barely catch his breath and glowered at the professor. He thought he’d forged somewhat of a truce with the untouchable man after their trip into the Chamber. He thought it had really meant something. Now he just felt betrayed and violated.

Severus made a ‘tsk’ sound of disgust in his throat that scoffed at and belittled Harry’s discomfort. In an attempt to goad his charge’s resolve, he muttered, “Potter. You grant me too much access yet again.” The tone of disappointment was worse than anything to Harry’s ears.

“I’m trying! I don’t know how to stop things before they go too far!” he wailed, scared of what would come next—his heightened emotional state did nothing for his defense against the next onslaught. Snape slithered in again with the insidious speed and suffocating stealth of a Lethifold:

The picture rising to the surface from his Hippocampus had the clarity of an actual memory—

Harry was in a hysterical state, running through the halls of Hogwarts late at night. He gripped a dirty water glass in his hand and skidded into the infirmary at top speed. Poppy came out to investigate and cast a whole host of diagnostic spells on him. There was a strange buzzing in his ears, whirring like blood, that kept them from hearing the auditory information of the conversation, but it looked like the medical matron was trying to soothe a distraught Potter, telling him that nothing was wrong. It was clear that the little boy, looking about twelve there, didn’t believe her….

The same scene slid sideways and changed to a bit later, with Potter looking like he was a sacrificial lamb waiting to be given the ax when Albus had appeared at his bedside in the hospital….

Some increment of time dizzyingly lurched ahead and then the Headmaster was wearing two of the most ridiculous puppets on his hands, (looked to be fashioned out of socks). Embarrassingly enough, they were of an adult nude male and female couple, anatomically correct right down to the pubic hair. As the old man pointed out the differences in body type and parts (paying special attention to the various erogenous zones), the young boy looked green around the gills. Poppy had the good sense to ease up along his side and silently place a metal basin in his lap, which the lad clung to with white knuckles as if he would a life-preserver….

Severus could feel the nausea pulsating through the Legilimency bond and fought to swallow the sympathetic thick saliva forming in his own throat…. He experienced the dread and mortification right along with Potter. There was a frantic scrabbling as Harry seemed to be attempting desperately to reject the Legilimency influence but was unsuccessful:

Albus was explaining reproduction to the agitated boy and—oh dear god—demonstrating the mechanics of intercourse via the sock-puppets! Poppy took Albus aside and whispered something that made the Headmaster’s eyes widen, then approached Potter again, transfiguring the female puppet into another male….

He was thrust out with much less finesse. Severus was thrown off balance and shoved against the side of his desk (he’d have a bruise on his hip tomorrow). Snape grunted through the sudden pain and took a couple deep breaths, trying to quell the thrill of horror he’d experienced through their connection; he was left with a faint idea that what Poppy had said was acutely terrifying to Harry.

“Much more force there, Potter. That must have been quite a ‘touchy’ subject,” he taunted, willing the boy to harness his innate magic, confine it all down to a pinpoint rather than spray out indiscriminately in a shot-gun pattern. He dove back in without reprieve or prior notice:

Harry was standing on the stage that the imbecile Lockhart set up for that dueling club—there was no one else around…. It had the ephemeral feel of a dream, hazy around the edges and watery when looked at directly. Harry had the snake that Malfoy conjured wrapped around his legs and it was inching towards his crotch. He saw himself glide up to the boy and drop to his knees, reaching his hands out to the serpent. There was Parseltongue being hissed…..

Snape immediately lost his focus from shock and was forced out from his inattention. All of a sudden, he felt the thread he built between them pulse and vibrate. His mind was flooded with images all too familiar to him from a different perspective!:

Harry was seeing his Potion Master kneeling at his feet…. There was no snake-- just fingers, and lips, and aching lust, and debauched desire, and overwhelming arousal, and the fervent wish to teach him delights of the flesh, and….

The unnerved student found the wind knocked out of him from being slammed onto his back, mercilessly pounded into the flagstones from a flare of intense energy. Dark stars danced before his eyelids. He may have cracked his skull on the floor. Or it could have been from the monumental event that just happened. He suspected he might have been in Snape’s memories, (but then why would he have had the same exact dream?)

Severus was rattled, to say the least. But he wasn’t sure that Potter necessarily knew what precisely had transpired, so, to deter any discussion of it, he went on the offensive to cover his anxiety (and to distract himself from the vision of Harry: eyes closed and breathing heavily, sensually sprawled on the floor with a stiff spire protruding up from the front of his robes-- ‘Good lord, if the sun was shining in my dungeon I could tell the time!’).

Taking heed of Dumbledore’s advice, he decided it was time to teach the method and technique he should have imparted from the start. Snape visibly shook himself in an act of re-acquiring his composure and offered, “Here is something that might help you Occlude…. What does it feel like?”

“What?” Harry stammered. His mind was running over what just occurred and his body was still thrumming with residual stimulation from the experience, so unthinkingly he answered with his first thought, “Um…. Good?”

Severus gasped and choked on his own spit. (Oh fuck! The boy was going to be the death of him!) “No, not that!” he wheezed, scrambling to recover some semblance cool. “What does me practicing Legilimency with you feel like? In your brain?!”

“Oh.” Harry flinched, then moaned as realization dawned, “Oh god.” He folded his arms across his blushing face, then muffled out, “I guess it’s like-- it feels like you’re, uh…. sticking a finger or something…. rigid or hard…. deep inside me…. Erm…. Poking around and trying to find something specific….”

The younger wizard sat up, drawing his thighs to his chest to conceal his erection and rested his forehead on his knees to hide his mortified eyes. Red-cheeked, he hugged his legs tighter seeking solace and courage; he rocked and fidgeted a bit but soldiered on. “It’s like you’re digging in between tight spaces, searching for a certain spot…. You’re pushing in and pulling out, um, memories…. and you fill me…. with feelings. You’re in my head and I can’t stop you from discovering very personal things about me. I don’t know…. It makes me feel unraveled, out of control of my actions and thoughts…. Like I’m split wide open…,” he trailed off meekly.

Snape gulped at the innocent explanation that his perverted mind inconveniently converted to naughty innuendo. He gathered his typical detached demeanor with great effort. “That’s because when you let me in, I am guiding the sequence of events. That’s what I mean by control…. Focus on…,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably and willed himself to continue, “that ‘finger’ feeling and deny it access. If you can determine the point of the intrusion you can repel it the second it initially touches you. Weave walls around your thoughts. Envision impenetrable barriers. Strengthen your synapses. Use that stubborn streak I know you have.” Harry just nodded silently against his knees, too embarrassed to soak in the atypical support he was being showered with at the moment.

“Now that you’ve done it, you can do it again. What would happen if you meshed a Silencing Charm with a Patronus? What about any basic Warding spells you know, like ‘Impertbatem’? What about combining any and all of those internally? Your skull is a hard surface. Think about that. We shall practice more the next lesson. You are dismissed.”

Severus dropped heavily in his chair after Harry left, holding his head in his hands. There. He’d finally done it. He’d given the young man the proper tools to block him. It remained to be seen if his student actually mastered the art, but it was more than likely he wouldn’t get the candid glimpses he had so far. Sure, there was still more time to practice, and Harry probably wouldn’t get it on the first go (nobody did), but he felt a sort of loss. He’d never have such free reign into Harry’s mind again and that saddened him. He would miss sharing those private thoughts and feelings; he liked the openness and closeness it made him feel.

He went straight for the Scotch and bed, but bypassed the Pensieve. Instead, he replayed the boy’s words in his head while he brought himself to completion (‘poking a finger or something rigid and hard deep inside him, searching for a certain spot’ indeed!)

~~~~

A/N: More later (we’re getting closer to actual smut!) And again, thanks for reading!
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Snape's Curse