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Unleashed	By : lordoberon Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 17651 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. I make no money in the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
I am trying to advance the plot...I still feel it goes too slowly. Sorry!

But GOD I had fun writing this chapter! =D

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UNLEASHED

A Snarry fanfic

by lordoberon

Ch. 7

Harry's POV

He walked shakily and returned to the couch, and sat heavily. He wanted to know what the hell had just happened, but he didn’t dare ask. The Potions Master was now pacing the room behind him furiously, from the cauldron to the potions shelves, back and forth, back and forth. He didn’t say anything, but just paced.

Finally Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. He opened his mouth to ask, but Snape spoke first.

“Potter,” he snarled, “I need you to answer some questions. First. Tell me, were you very tired in the weeks before the demons possessed you – were you sleeping well?”

Harry shook his head, and then realized Snape might not be looking at him. He turned his head, and saw Snape was looking straight at him. Harry licked his lips. Snape was making him nervous.

“I wasn’t sleeping well; I had nightmares all the time. During the day, too.”

“Of? Describe them.”

Them. Harry frowned. It had really only been one nightmare, slightly varied, going on again and again in his sleep.

Damn it. He didn’t want to tell Snape. He didn’t want to be so vulnerable, even if he did trust the man more than he ever had in his life before.

“They were…scenes of deaths…of…my friends. Really um…bloody and gruesome. Some of them were friends who are already dead…some not. And I was chained to a gravestone in some…like back in my Fourth Year…and these creatures would come and…kill me, or eat me, or…go inside of me.”

Snape had stopped his pacing, and stood, frozen, at the other end of the room. He whirled around, robes billowing. Harry wanted to laugh at the maniac grin on his face. He’d never seen that look before.

“That. That was the demons. So they’ve made you very tired, have they? Perhaps that is why they wanted to suck energy in the form of blood and magic into your body…they possessed you, but their vessel is a little worse for wear at the moment…now, the next piece of the puzzle is that boy. Boot.”

Boot? Oh no. Harry looked away. Terry Boot was the Ravenclaw he’d been eyeing for the past month, talking to him only occasionally in classes and at meals…once, he’d shared a handshake with him after a Quidditch game where Boot had bet Gryffindor would win. Harry had wished Boot would’ve hugged him, so he could get closer to that tall lithe form and handsome face, but the handshake had been good, too. It sent tingles into Harry when he thought about it.

Harry’s mouth was dry. He said nothing.

Snape, as if he could hear the purposefulness in Harry’s silence, stalked forward and came to stand right behind Harry. His hands dug into the couch cushions behind Harry’s neck.

“Boot,” he repeated. “The boy that you…drank from, and other things, in the Great Hall. He seemed to enjoy it, until you started sucking the life out of him -”

“STOP IT!” Harry tilted his head up and glared at Snape. He breathed out slowly, and said quietly, “It wasn’t me, it was the demons.”

“Oh?” Snape was looking at him intently, and clasped his hands together in front of him. “If that is so, then why are there no similar cases where someone possessed by demons is prone to lasciviousness?”

Prone to lasciviousness. Harry snorted. The man thought he was Shakespeare sometimes, didn’t he? And what did he mean, prone, it was only the one time…

Oh shit. Harry ducked his head back down and his eyes widened. If he was prone to lasciviousness or whatever when possessed, that meant he’d kissed someone else, and who was around but Snape? He hadn’t seen anyone else in a week.

Shit shit SHIT!! Had he gone and kissed Snape? Oh, Merlin…just the idea sent a little squeamish shiver down Harry’s body. Snape of all people…sure, he was tall, he had a powerful gaze, was somewhat appealing when shirtless, and he had those long-fingered, precise hands that might be useful in certain areas…

Oh Lord Merlin, what was Harry thinking? Snape was old enough to be his dad…had loved the same woman his dad had…and he was Snape, for Merlin’s loving sake! SNAPE!

Snape who wasn’t evil and had saved his life and obviously cared enough about Dumbledore to follow his annoying instructions and looked good without a shirt on…

Harry had been silent too long now, and Snape came to stand in front of the couch. “Ashamed, are you?” He had his familiar, triumphant smirk on now.

Then suddenly that mood deflated – when had Snape become so bipolar? – and he took a step back. “If you won’t speak to me, then I will just have to go inside your mind to get answers. We know how you hate that.”

“I despise it,” Harry snapped, “Despise. Get it right.”

Snape chuckled. “Well, then. Spill, Potter. We don’t have all day, all year, or all lifetime. You’re wasting my time as usual.”

“OKAY!” Harry said. “Fine. The explanation is stupid and simple and you should have thought of it. If the blood drinking thing is caused by my sleeplessness, than the…kissing thing…is obvious, right? I’m seventeen. You know? Do I really have to elaborate?”

Snape clucked with his tongue. “No. Not necessary. I was a teenager once, too.”

Harry looked at him hard – he knew Snape had loved his mother for those years – and Snape continued quickly, knowing he’d slipped up.

“I don’t keep track of my students’ sordid details. However, since the entire school tends to babble, I heard of your departure from the youngest Weasley family member. I would have thought your choice, even under possession, would be more towards…that end of the gender spectrum.”

“Look,” Harry said, “It’s none of your business anyhow. Since when do you care?”

“Since it affects this case.” Snape’s voice was sharp like lemons with salt.

“Well, I didn’t pick Boot,” Harry lied. “So don’t look at me.”

Snape laughed. “Am I to think that the demons picked Boot to drink from? He may be pretty, but he is otherwise unremarkable.”

Harry said nothing. Apparently his silence said something to Snape, for the professor simply said, “So that’s how it is.”

Then, with no further ado, he brought three vials of more golden potion and put them in Harry’s hands.

“Take these all right now.”

Harry swallowed. “But I thought the demons were fighting you, and that this wasn’t working anymore?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “It IS working. That’s why they attacked so forcefully. You’re a Gryffindor. Be brave and take it like a man. I’m willing to deal with the consequences. And next time, take your sleeping potion. The recent fiasco may have been avoided if you’d taken it.”

Guilty and silent, Harry downed the three vials.

===== Severus

Severus Snape had been alone for many, many years. And in those years, he hadn’t particularly longed for anyone. Yes, he’d longed for Lily, but she was dead. Yes, he’d longed for Harry Potter, but he was absolutely off limits. So there was no use really, really longing.

He didn’t spend too much time mulling over the boy’s features…no, he was too busy protecting him. Yes, he watched him. Like a hawk. If Potter was absent, Snape was the first to notice. If he was quiet, Snape noticed. If he was screaming angry with Dumbledore, he sometimes found out. He noticed the boy’s expressions, and since Potter was like an open book, he guessed – often correctly – at the boy’s emotions. Alas that he only got the opportunity to really be alert in the Great Hall and during classes.

It wasn’t until Potter really began to grow, that Snape became bothered by those inklings of desire. But he duly ignored them. There was always another potion to make, the Dark Lord to appease, or Dumbledore to go yell at about something. And then there was Minerva and her teas, and the quick, humorous exchanges with Rosmerta or Trelawney that always left him with a jaunt in his step. And occasionally there was student entertainment, like the Weasley twins.

But after last night…control became more difficult.

Severus found himself dreaming of Potter in the most explicit of poses, with a suggestive lilt to his voice. He forced himself to barely look at Potter for the next three days, so that his overactive mind wouldn’t get any ideas.

If only Potter had drank that sleeping potion like a good little boy. In a sudden change of tactic, the demons had spoiled any composure Severus had, and sent Harry atop of him, in his own bed…purring with his eyes closed as he created a stinging hickey on Severus’ neck…and the kiss…

It was burned in Severus’ memory. Half-awake though he was, it had gotten his attention. First, those soft lips had pressed up against his, demandingly. Then there was the warm swipe of the tongue. It had pushed its way into Severus mouth, and there had been his doom. So good, so warm, so wet…Potter licked inside his mouth like a hungry animal, his body hot lying over Severus. His tongue had thrust and sidled in all the right places; his fingers had created shivers through Severus as they explored his hands, his arms, and his chest.

Caught in the kiss, thinking he was only dreaming, Severus had been as if under a spell of lust. It was only when nails scraped at the heavy black cloth and ripped open his robes that he realized just what was happening.

He’d pulled away from the kiss, and stared with utter hatred into those fathomless black eyes.

A spell had hurtled from him, trapping the monsters. He’d blacked out, and when he came to, Potter was on the floor, screaming. Severus had leapt atop the monster, trying to shake Potter out of it, and a wave of fire from his wand had the demons shrinking away, and then Potter regained himself.

Four days later, and Severus sat at his desk. The doors were carefully locked, and the room muffled. Potter was studying away in Severus’ room. The kiss had sprung into his mind yet again, and he found himself irritatingly hard. It was just a kiss, and from a pack of demons at that. What did it matter?

It wouldn’t, if the vessel hadn’t been Potter. Severus doubted the seventeen-year-old could kiss like that in possession of himself, but Merlin, he was a stud as a possessed, mad, freak. A groan fell from Severus’ lips, and he inched lower in his chair. Thighs open beneath the desk, he reached his hand down with a resigned sigh.

“MMmm.” Had that been him? The touch of his own hand over the bulge in his robes felt so good. He rubbed it fervently, groaning. It had been so long since he’d done even this. Panting, he drew his fingertips up his length, and squeezed the head. Oh! Yes.

Licking his lips, with his mind on Potter’s figure and that full mouth, and that talented tongue, Severus eased his fingers over the head, tickling the slit. Saliva was thick in his mouth. He swallowed hard, panting louder, and drew his hand down, where he cupped the heavy balls. He’d always been large, and it was another inconvenience that deterred him from messing around more than necessary. But right now it was something to be proud of. With his other hand he gripped his cock, drawing his grip up and down, up and down.

He was rocking in his chair now, his hips easing up, up. He rubbed against the underside of his desk, moaning at the sensation of hard wood. What would it feel like to have Potter’s cock against him? Was he a big boy? Mmm, heroes should be…otherwise, the talk was just talk, wasn’t it? Severus would rather the rumor about Potter’s package was true, then that stupid dragon tattoo…

He was going to blow soon, and it felt so good. He hadn’t felt like this in so long, his heart pumping, his body hot with lust, tingles all throughout, and his cock so damn sensitive…Something like a whimper came out of his throat. He lifted up his robes, and got a good rhythm going. Skin against skin was so much better…he massaged his balls, grunting, and his chair made horrible creaks with every thrust upward…

He came hard, crying out once, and then fell back against his chair. With a big sigh, he slid down off of it, underneath his chair, and shoved it back so he could lie on the floor like a dead man.

Merlin’s hairy horses, that was damn good. But how long would the high and satisfaction last for? Severus shut his eyes and let the thoughts spill away. His body felt amazingly relaxed now.

For a while, he just lay there, content. This was rare. Then a loud knock came at the door. Severus ignored it, but then a voice came through the door.

“Severus? It’s Minerva.”

“Shit.” Severus slowly got up, and cleaned up his desk and himself with a few wand whisks. Thankfully he was good at cleaning spells. But he had to be, with potions being his art.

He opened the door slowly, and nodded to the woman congenially enough, though he wished she would be gone. “Yes?”

He noticed how her gaze darted behind him – looking for students, or Potter? – before looking at him again. “After your update the other night, Severus, I was thinking…maybe we should get an expert on this. Lupin, or someone else, can surely find someone who’s expert with demons.”

“My dear Minerva,” Severus growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You insult me. My potions are working. Are you trying to claim that I am a failure?”

“Severus!” The woman pinched her nose tightly. She looked haggard. “I do nothing of the sort. I’m just…I’m just wanting to help the boy. Do you so like having him hanging around, that you want to keep him?”

Bloody Dumbledore; had he noticed Severus’ feelings for Harry, and said something to the Transfiguration Professor?

“Of course not,” Severus said smoothly, “I despise the lout. But he has been helping me, by cooperatively answering questions. And, I have a few plans for what our next step will be.”

“Such as?”

He loathed the doubt in Minerva’s eyes. “A pensieve,” he bit out, “To preserve his memories. I will study them, and what might be missing. I have also have been doing much research on magical artifacts and phoenixes. That’s all the information I’m willing to give you.”

Minerva snorted. “Severus. This is the savior of the world we’re talking about saving here. Don’t refuse help. I am offering you the entire Order to command to help you with all the resources at their disposal. You are refusing?”

Severus whistled through his teeth. “Perhaps not. If Lupin has a spare bit of time, I’ll consult him over the fire tonight. Let him know.”

He shut the door none too gently behind him, and went to check on his young charge.

Curses to all creators in the heavens! Potter lay on the floor on top of an old rug Severus had reluctantly dragged from the dust for him. He was stretched across it on his stomach, books and parchment piled around him. One foot was up in the air, with a trainer shoe dangling dangerously from it. He had his head bent over a book, and was sucking at the tip of his quill in a most distracting fashion. His hair looked like he’d swept his hands through it a million times and tugged it every which way. Robes had been abandoned for a set of Muggle clothes sent down to him by his friends – plain dark trousers, and a familiar red Weasley jumper that had gotten far too small on him.

In short, he was Satan in disguise. Torturous with his long body, chewed-on lips, and a strip of skin between his jumper and trousers revealed, the sight of him made Severus almost turn right back around.

Except he couldn’t. So he stared a moment, before stepping forward. When had he gotten sweaty? When had his heart decided to beat a little quickly?

Potter lifted his head up to look up at Severus as he crossed the room to his cauldron area. “What? No ‘honey, I’m home’?”

Severus grunted. Ever since he’d started ignoring the boy as much as possible for the last three days, Potter had decided to crack these annoying, stupid jokes that he knew grated on Severus’ nerves. He was a little attention-whore, he was, and his revenge for feeling neglected was to bother Severus as much as possible. Plus, he was probably nervous that he had touched Severus in some lusty way he knew not (for Severus would not tell him), so he babbled.

Thank god he babbled, because it reminded Severus what an idiot the boy could be, and what an idiot he was for being overcome by an annoying jerk of a teenager.

The sizzle and hiss as he mixed ingredients together made Severus calm down a little. When he paused in his work, he was surprised to find Potter standing right in front of him. Had Potter learned to be quiet, or had he simply been absorbed?

Potter was looking at what Severus was doing. He watched as Severus spun the little spoon around in a small cauldron three times and then poured the contents into one of many lined-up vials. Each was carefully labeled. The contents were all varying shades of silver and grey. Only when Severus let his hands drop to his sides did Potter look up.

The young man said nothing, but simply looked at Severus calmly.

“What do you want?”

“Just watching.”

He waited for Severus to do something else, and when Severus started to pour the vials’ contents into a bowl, he opened his mouth. Then he shut it. Then he asked, “What’s this all for?”

Severus shook his head, and motioned “quiet” with a finger. As he poured the vials out one by one, he spun his wand into the mixture, murmuring spells.

When it was done, he stepped back, pushing Potter down onto the bed, away from danger.

Nothing. No explosion. No noise. Not even a breath of sound.

Not daring to even breathe, he stepped forward. The mixture in the bowl had settled to a beautiful, sparkling clearness.

Good. Now for Potter.

He grabbed the boy by his arm, and walked them as quietly and quickly as he could to his office. When Potter sat down, frowning, Severus put a finger to his mouth again so the boy would stay shut up. He was surprised the Gryffindor had lasted this long without saying anything. Twit.

“That mixture is for your memories. You are to place them in that pensieve, starting tonight. It is yours.”

Potter goggled. Then a look of delight broke out on his face. “Really?”

Severus savored that expression a moment, and then dropped the other shoe. “Yes. And I will study it, so we can determine what the demons have stolen already.”

Potter leapt up, but Severus forced him to sit back down with a hard glare, and then cast a quick silencing charm on the indignant teenager. He then sat back and continued.

“They will soon start targeting more and more important memories, because they desire to debilitate your freedom while feeding on your magical power and physical stamina. Why else have I had you sitting around all this time? It is because, gradually, after being possessed more and more, your body will weaken. That is the first symptom, and I have seen it manifesting. That is one reason I put strengthening elements into the ‘golden liquor’, as you’ve dubbed it. I also put ingredients to strengthen your core, because that is where they are sucking your magical energy from. If all goes wrong, you’ll eventually be unable to even light a wand with a lumos.”

Potter’s face was ashen.

“But,” Severus sighed “If all goes well, your magic will strengthen, your memories will be preserved and often visited in the pensieve, and we will be able to retrieve whatever you’ve lost up till now. We will also solve the answers to the extra special parts of this case. We’ve already got you on a better sleep schedule, so you haven’t been drinking blood when the demons overtake you. The only mystery left is the…promiscuity. This, as you said, could simply be because of your current unfortunate case of teenager libido.”

Potter flushed, which was quite becoming. It spread across his cheeks and down his neck a little. Severus enjoyed that Potter was still being quiet, too. He hadn’t lectured Potter in so long. It felt good. He ran his tongue along his teeth.

“Besides that little twist, and the fact that you have so many demons riding you, we’re all set. Now. Go put some memories in that pensieve. Minerva has demanded that I lend you a wand to do the task, and I agreed it was unavoidable. I will remain here. I find it’s always easier when no one else is present.”

Potter fidgeted in his chair. When Severus cut off the silencing spell, he did as Severus expected.

“NO! There’s no way I’m letting you see my memories! Dumbledore wouldn’t call that fair play, and you know McGonagall wouldn’t, either. You’re just trying to bother me, or get revenge for all the crap I’ve put you through. Well I’m sorry, but no can do. You can work out what’s going on some other way, without looking in my pensieve.”

My pensieve, eh? He was already quite possessive of it. Like a boy with a new broomstick toy to fly on.

“No can do, but it will not. This is not optional.”

Potter sat up straighter in his chair. “Then, I won’t put any memories in it. Besides, why do you need that pensieve? You can just Legilimens into my head any time you bloody well please.”

“Language, Potter. Yes, I can, but I have some human decency. You won’t be putting every single memory in the pensieve -”

“But -”

“But if you wish, you may. I can study them better in a pensieve, and slow things down, speed things up, etcetera. The pensieve is also a precaution to preserve your memories in the case that the demons actually wipe them out of you.”

Potter scraped his shoe hard against the floor. His face was green as if he might vomit. He clenched his fists at his sides. “Fuck.”

“Language, Mister Potter. Now please do as I asked.”

The boy snapped his head up and gave Severus a delicious, burning hot glare, included with pouting, tempting lips. “Don’t ‘please’ me, Snape. You’d Imperius me if you wanted to.”

“Hmph.” Severus stood. “If I wanted to Imperius you, Potter, there are much better things I would make you do.”

He left with a nice billow of his robes, to take his evening bath and leave Potter alone, to sulk or obey, whichever he wished.

He was halfway down the hall, smirking to himself, when the familiar burning of the Dark Mark came.

Fuck Merlin to the high heavens. And he’d been having a decent day, too.

Schooling his face, his body, and his very self into Death Eater mode, he left to bow again before the man he hated more than anyone else (except perhaps himself, on the worst of days).

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Please tell me what you think. Do things make sense? I'm a bit nervous. Also, is the spacing too close together?
- 6
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- 8
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Unleashed