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Advances	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 11340 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the Potter universe belong to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
CH6 AN: To celebrate getting into double figures on reviews (thank you!) and because I've finally written the two missing sex scenes for this, I figured I'd post this chapter early. Enjoy!
Djaddict – thanks for the review. Hope you enjoyed catching up. And yes, alley sex is such a cliché, but still, gotta make sure you pervs get your Snarry fixes somehow!
Book_addict_89 – Poor Harry, indeed. And you will – eventually – get Severus' reaction to the pup. I'm so glad you like reading Harry's conversations with his fluffy half as I really like writing them. I'm considering doing six vignettes once this is all posted, and will try and add more conversations with wolfy people in them. Sadly, this story doesn't allow for much in the way of levity! SP
Chapter 6 – You Need To Release What You're Feeling Inside
All three of them sat and writhed in misery on September 1^st. None of them said anything, but as eleven o'clock came and went they all glanced up at the clock, then seemed to stare off into the distance. Harry ached to be at Hogwarts. He had seen, they'd all seen, the newspaper announcing Severus as headmaster. It made him want to return so badly that he had to clutch at the arms of the chair to stop him disapparating away.
With his change behind him, they had discussed how they were going to get the locket away from Umbridge. Ron had been less than helpful during the talks, when he should have been the one leading them: of them all, he had grown up in the magical world and could have told them so much that Hermione and Harry would never have understood. Instead he slumped in a chair, arms folded, and glowered at the pair as they pored over plans and ideas, arguing and finally agreeing on a plan.
“At last!” Hermione cried, falling back onto the sofa and nearly ending up flat on her back, she leaned back so far. “Well, I think that's the best chance we've got. What do you reckon, Ron?”
“Oh, don't mind me,” the older youth said with biting sarcasm, “you two clearly don't need me.”
Nonplussed, the witch asked, “What are you on about? Did you miss me asking you time and again if there was anything you knew that could help us? It's going to need all three of us, you understand that, right? Without the three of us, our chances of getting that horcrux are really diminished!”
“Right,” he seethed, hating that she hadn't wanted him, no, she had just wanted another body to make the plan work.
The wolf inside Harry began growling. It was sick of this young cub's attitude. In truth, Harry was fed up of Ron's griping too, but he did need the other man to help him. But, he thought, almost shamefacedly, maybe I won't need him soon. I bloody hope so!
Getting into the Ministry of Magic when you were three of the most wanted people was not easy; it was even more difficult given Harry's werewolf status. The law demanding that all werewolves register was still being argued out, but it just a matter of time before he would have to declare what he was, or risk imprisonment if discovered. As discovery at the Ministry would mean his certain death at the hands of Voldemort, Harry wasn't overly worried, but still, it didn't make his fluffy half feel exactly comfortable.
Still, September 1^st was upon them. And Harry's stomach clenched as he imagined all his other Gryffindor friends sitting at the table, listening to Snape's welcome speech, getting their timetables, yawning, catching up, and then stumbling off to bed. He wanted nothing more than to fall into Severus' arms, tell him about the child they had lost, and have a chance to grieve. It seemed strange that he was mourning something he had never even realised had been there, but he did feel pain at the death of the unborn child, and he did hate Mundungus for his actions that day. But, in some unacknowledged corner of his mind, he knew that probably it had been for the best. Had he stayed pregnant and had the child, he would have been giving birth in April. And as he was hoping to have defeated the snake-faced freak by then, fighting Voldemort whilst heavily pregnant was not something he would have looked forward to.
Tomorrow they were going to the Ministry. Tomorrow he would get the locket off that pink bitch Umbridge if he had to rip her apart himself. Tomorrow he would not miss Severus so much. Well, two out of three ain't bad.
***
“Hermione!” Harry yelled, staring in horror at Ron's mangled arm and the blood pouring from the wound after their frantic escape from the Ministry.
“My bag!” The witch shrieked in return. “Get my bag! The essence of dittany!”
Scrambling, Harry snatched the small bag and accio'd the right solution to him. He dug his trainers into the muddy ground and kicked up leaves as he rushed to the woman's side and pushed the small bottle into her hands.
“What happened?” he asked, taking in the awful state of Ron.
Her hands shaking, the witch unstoppered the vial and began shaking drops of the fluid onto the gory mess. “It was … Yaxley … Harry, he had … I think he saw … and I'm sorry!”
Not understanding what she was saying in the least, the black haired wizard merely nodded and queried, “What happened to Ron?”
“Splinched,” Hermione moaned, still focusing her attention on the healing skin.
His eyes wide with horror, Harry stumbled backwards, and merely watched her. Piecing together what she had gasped out, he began to realise that Grimmauld Place was probably denied them now. It made his heart pound as he considered the few options they had left.
With Ron healed, and a blood replenishing potion inside him, the witch finally turned her attention to their surroundings. “Oh,” she said, “my parents and I came here once. It's pretty.”
Feeling a smile start to twitch his lips upwards, Harry said, “So, now what?”
“Well, now we put up the tent,” she replied with determination. At his look, she shook her head and accio'd her beaded bag to her hand. “Honestly,” she complained half-heartedly, “you're hopeless.”
With the tent up, Ron settled in, and Harry off searching for water, Hermione sank to the floor and covered her face, weeping silently.
***
Ron, if possible, was even more unpleasant after his injury. More than once he came across Harry scribbling on parchment and glowered when the smaller man covered up what he was writing. He would usually stomp away, sniffing loudly.
Harry, trying to find some new way of telling Severus he missed him, would barely notice the red-head's departure. So far, after days of writing, he had, “I really miss you. Really really. And I want to see you so badly.” It was hardly Shakespeare.
He felt slightly better when he went to the Shrieking Shack on September 8^th and read the note Snape had left for him: “I miss you. Please, please, be careful.” It hardly oozed passion; yet Harry knew there was passion there. And he was the only one who got to see it.
He had been scared of changing out in the open where the only thing keeping his friends safe from him was thin canvas. But the Wolfsbane had made him sleepy, and with Hermione holding his wand he had felt secure enough to drift off and drowse through the full moon.
Physical intimacy was more of a problem. Before the full moon he had been exceedingly horny, something which the wolf told him was a natural consequence of wanting to have a pup. Wanting Severus' child was one thing, but when Harry woke up for the fourth morning in a row rock hard and touching himself, he knew he had to do something about it.
Talking to Hermione was out of the question. Even though she knew he had been having sex with Snape, he had no intention – ever! - of asking her any sex related questions. He was sure she had no desire to think about him having sex, and he felt exactly the same about her; more so, as he didn't even find the female form sexually appealing.
In desperation, he had grabbed a book she had left out and checked the index. It contained a spell to create a bubble of silence around a person. It was similar to the spell that was used on the tent to prevent outsiders hearing them, which meant Harry felt he might even be able to cast it correctly.
When he woke up on the fifth morning, cock in hand, he grabbed his other wand and quickly cast the spell he had noted down, then, tentatively, quietly, he had begun working his palm along his shaft, rubbing the sensitive skin gently, brushing over the vein that pulsed slightly in time with his heart's beats. Chewing on his lower lip to reduce the noise he was making – Harry hoped he had managed to cast the spell correctly, but, even so, he'd stay as quiet as possible so as not to push his luck – he slid his free hand down to cup his hot balls. Eye lids fluttering over green eyes, Harry felt each heavy testicle, rubbing over the wrinkled skin, moving the lumps within so that he jerked upwards, a soft moan spilling from his lips. He traced the skin back to his entrance and rubbed there, liking that he was wet now. Snape had done that to him – made him want a pup so much that his body was wet to allow it to happen.
He hesitated for a moment, then breeched his hole. It ached a little as he forced his way in, but the burn seemed to fire along his nerves and make him even more aroused. Slowly he angled his hand so that he could push in as far as possible. His legs were spread wide to give his hand room, and he worked as deeply in as he could, and yet he still didn't reach his nub. Almost sobbing with disappointment, he worked the finger in and out, loving the feeling of being possessed.
He tugged on his dick, now slick with liquid that meant he could pick up his pace and pump himself hard. Which he proceeded to do, hand flashing up and down his aching shaft, slamming down so that his hips rammed into the mattress, then lifting up, so that his heels ground down to push him up and remain in that tight grip.
Balanced awkwardly on heels and head, he spurted.
When he had rebooted, he ended the silencing charm and immediately became aware of the radio playing softly in the other part of the tent. He bit his lip. He hadn't considered that the bubble meant he wouldn't be able to hear others too.
He cleaned himself up, dressed and went out into their living space. Hermione was reading a book, and when she glanced up at Harry her face got rather pink.
“What's wrong?” he asked, dreading the answer. Had his spell failed somehow? Had she heard everything?
“I – erm – you didn't answer when I called, so I – erm -...”
“God, Hermione!” Harry said, eyes wide, “tell me you didn't look in my room!”
Biting her lip, she nodded.
Now it was Harry's turn to blush. “Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to ...”
“I know.” The witch dropped her voice before going on, “But be glad it was me, not Ron. He still doesn't know about your sexuality.”
***
Three more full moons had been and gone, and he was now quite adept at casting the spells to protect the tent (and his privacy) when they shifted locations. He noticed Hermione seemed to have recently retreated into herself, one too many snipy comments from Ron having stung her, and now she spent most of her evenings reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard and wondering, not for the first time, what had possessed Dumbledore to give it to her. It made her wonder about the other things the headmaster had tried to give them.
“Harry, why do you think...?” she stopped, seeing his upraised hand.
“Come and listen,” he whispered, holding out a gloved hand as the December air had a chill in it, and she settled at the tent's opening and heard Dean Thomas' voice.
“Well, he's not been caught yet, has he? And that's something!” he sounded irritated.
Ron, glancing up from his anger, saw the two and decided to go over and split them up. He was fed up of them whispering in corners. Angrily, he stomped over. At the doorway, he heard an unfamiliar voice.
“True, true. But do you think You-Know-Who is really looking for him? Maybe Potter has run off, and left all of us to suffer.”
A smirk crossed Ron's face before he could stop himself. It was about time someone else saw through Saint Potter's little act. All this talk of looking for horcruxes was a lie; really the younger wizard was scared and was in hiding, leaving Ron's family to suffer.
“I don't believe that! Dumbledore must have given him a mission; something that would finish You-Know-Who for good.”
There was a cackle. “Well, so long as he doesn't need the goblin made sword stolen by Gryffindor he'll be all right.”
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.
“Why?” Harry vaguely recognised the voice, but couldn't place it.
“It's missing.” There was a pause, then another chuckle, “And Snape doesn't know. I was sent to see him a month ago, and take the sword to a vault, and I saw the sword wasn't real. And he has no idea!”
There was more laughter here. Even Ron let out an aborted snort; but Harry felt his anger building.
“Still, some of the school brats tried to steal it. I think to give it to Potter. Didn't do them much good.”
All three hidden listeners held their breaths. They desperately wanted to know what had happened.
“Are the kids okay?” that was Dean, his voice filled with concern.
There was a rustling of clothing then the low, gruff voice spoke, “The Carrows disciplined them a bit, I think, then Snape said they had to do detention with that oaf Hagrid. Maybe he wanted to bore the children to death.”
“Which children?” Harry whispered, hoping someone would ask the question. Who had risked their safety for him?
Finally Dean asked, “Who tried to get the sword?”
“The Weasley girl, that Longbottom boy, and that weird Ravenclaw girl,”
“Luna,” Harry and Hermione breathed at the same time.
“Ah, well, enough of them. Did you catch anything, Dirk?”
There was the sound of movement, and the voices moved off.
Closing the tent flaps, the three retreated. They knew that thanks to the magic protecting them there was no way for them to be overhead once inside the tent.
“The sword … the sword Dumbledore wanted me to have. It must help me somehow, and we need to find it!” Harry cried excitedly.
“Well whoppee-fucking-do!” Ron snarled. “So we have another poxy thing to find now. Fan-fucking-tastic!”
It was really a bad idea of Ron's to start this fight in the week before a full moon. Harry's eyes glowed amber and he snapped, “What is your fucking problem?! I'm sick of your attitude!”
“Yeah? Well, I'm sick of yours! You want me to be pleased because there's another thing we have to find and have no idea where it is?! And what about my sister? You heard them – those bastard Carrows had a go at her for a bit. Anything could have happened to her, but all you care about is the fucking sword!”
“That's not true!” Harry yelled, “I care about Ginny, and Neville, and Luna! But there is nothing we can do for them, not directly. But if we get that sword and it destroys a horcrux, we are helping them. Don't be a total asshole, Ron, you aren't the only person missing loved ones!”
“Who are you missing, then? Fucking Snape?!”
“God, yes! Do you have any idea how much I miss him, Ron? He did everything for me last year. Anything and everything to keep me sane and safe! And I'm sorry about George, I am, but you misunderstood Severus. I know he didn't mean to harm your brother. We're all missing people, but stop hating me for not having a fucking family to worry about! And stop hating me because you feel left out!” Hands clenched, Harry was holding back the wolf's strength with difficulty.
“Left out?! You two keep muttering in corners, so, yeah, I think I can feel left out!” The red-head pointed at Hermione as he spoke, “You side with him all the time!”
It wasn't Hermione who answered, but Harry. “What fucking choice does she have when you're a total dick?! I get you miss your family, I miss them too, but if you hate it here so much, why don't you go back to them?!”
“Maybe I will! Merlin knows you're some weird freak who misses a murdering bastard of a teacher...”
“Severus is my partner,” Harry said with surprising calm, “I love him.”
Ron gaped, his face draining of all colour. Then he went bright red and roared, “YOU PERVERTED FREAK! YOU FUCKING SICK ASSHOLE!” He ripped the locket from around his throat, threw it roughly on the floor and stormed out.
The party outside must have moved away as there was nothing for him to run into. Drawing his wand, he turned on the spot and vanished.
---
CH7 Preview: “Severus,” Harry breathed, eyes glistening with his tears, “you came.”
Snape bent his head and nuzzled Harry's neck. “Of course. You think I would ignore such a clear call?”
They kissed then.
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