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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
CH7 AN: As always, Thunderbird, thank you. And, because you asked for karmic retribution for Dung, I've added in something much later. So, when we finally get there, know that it was added because of/for you. Ron's outburst was a mixture of both reasons you gave – he is homophobic, and he hates Snape (in his defence, he does think Severus attacked George). Part of it is because he has this image in his head of how Harry is meant to act, and a gay werewolf doesn't fit that picture. But it's mainly the homophobic thing.
Phoenix-rob – Indeed Ron shows his obnoxious side. Hope he wasn't too much like a cartoon leading up to this point; I wanted him to be unlikeable, but not such an obvious villain that he may as well have been twirling a black moustache! And yes, Hermione should have left Harry alone, but she was worried about him. Severus and Harry are not far from more snuggles.
Book_addict_89 – And the opinion seems pretty unanimous about Ron - “massive twat” covers it nicely. Though I'd like to know which bit of twattery offended you most – the homophobia or the Snape bashing? Yes, Hermione, for a smart witch, should really have known better! You are very welcome for the double helping of chapters. (I'm loving 'Nothing Worth Having Comes Easily')
This chapter contains some of my favourite moments in this story. SP
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Chapter 7 – Out Of Your Mouth
With Ron gone the tension in the tent abruptly vanished. Hermione had looked stunned at the red-head's actions, and had called after him, but there had been no sign that he had even heard. She had come back into the tent looking numb and Harry had helped her into a chair and quickly handed her a hot chocolate.
“He left,” she said tonelessly, “He really left.”
“He'll be back,” Harry said, squirming internally as he knew Ron's departure had most definitely been his fault.
“What if he doesn't come back?” She whispered, sipping mechanically at her drink.
Harry pulled a chair closer and sat on it. “Then we go on without him,” he replied gently. After all, what choice did they have? They could hardly wait around indefinitely for the moody twat to return.
Trying to distract her, and knowing books were his best bet, he asked, “How are you getting on with Tales of Beedle the Bard?”
“It makes no sense,” Hermione was speaking in a stilted manner, almost robotically, her mind clearly focused mainly on the red head who had deserted them. “The one story, the tale of the three brothers, it has a symbol above it, but it isn't a rune. I've seen it somewhere, but can't think where.”
Moving quietly, there was a certain innate grace he possessed as a werewolf, Harry fetched the book and a throw and returned to her side. He placed the book on her lap, tucked the blanket around her shoulders and squeezed one knee in a show of solidarity.
Automatically, she flipped to the story and pointed the image out to him.
“I've seen this,” Harry said. Why did he associate it with yellow, noise and head pain? Searching his brain, helped by the wolf, he thought back. “I've got it! Bill and Fleur's wedding! Luna's dad was wearing it on a necklace. It nearly took my eye out!”
Eyes suddenly clicking into focus, Hermione nodded. “You're right. I remember now. So, do you want to look for him? He was invited to the wedding, and Mrs Weasley said they lived near to the Burrow. Do we go there and look?”
“What, and make the prat think we've come after him begging him to rejoin us?” Harry's voice was scornful. “No fucking way.” He offered an idea of his own. “This'll seem odd, but can we go to Godric's Hollow? I'd like to visit there.” He paused before saying, “I've never seen my parents' graves. Maybe they're buried near there.”
Understanding all too well, Hermione nodded. “All right, but in a few days,” she said, “I'm tired.”
Knowing that part of that was the hot chocolate, and part was the emotional draining she had had with Ron's betrayal, Harry didn't argue. He took the cup and washed it. Hermione had vanished into her bedroom whilst he had tidied up, and he knew she had suggested staying where they were in case a certain red-head came back. Even if he did, Harry didn't think he would welcome Ron.
The morning when they finally left, nearly two weeks later, took far longer than necessary to take down the tent. Harry because he was thinking about what he might discover at Godric's Hollow – hopefully one S Snape as he'd sent a brief message on the galleon the previous night; and Hermione because she, somehow, still thought she loved Ron.
For an intelligent witch she is sometimes surprisingly stupid, Harry thought. No one who had treated her in the way Ron had deserved a moment of her time, and certainly didn't deserve her loyalty and affection. Mind you, Harry had been pretty foul to her during their fifth year, and last year he had barely seen her. He supposed he should be grateful that she was so forgiving.
Finally everything was cleared away and Hermione nodded silently to Harry. Holding tightly to one another, so as not to get separated, they disapparated.
Godric's Hollow was a beautiful village, Harry decided after only a few seconds in it. There was a dusting of snow on the cold stone walls, but the grass still held a tinge of green, still fighting relentlessly against the oncoming winter. He shivered. It was too much like his own struggle. And, like the grass, would he be apparently overcome, only to one day find he had been trampled and almost killed, but now he had the chance of a new life?
The houses had that peculiar look that magical buildings possessed, as if a ruler were an unknown object, but he liked it. Idly he wondered if one day he and Severus could settle here. He stroked his stomach as he added in his mind, with our children.
“Oh!” Hermione gave a soft cry and tugged on Harry's arm. She was pointing at a derelict looking house that made Harry shiver. “I think that's where your Mum and Dad...” she whispered, and he allowed himself to be led to the ruined building. As he neared it, they passed a war memorial. A bubble seemed to ripple around the obelisk and now a statue stood on the plot, covered with graffiti of all colours. Some of it was glittered, and others changed colour, so Harry knew he was looking at magical comments.
“They've ruined your parents' statue!” Hermione sounded scandalised and near to tears, but Harry stepped closer and closer until he was looking at the stone cast faces of his parents. He ached to see this representation of them. They were locked in time and would never age; so young, so convinced of their own strength and invulnerability. But at the same time they'd never know him, never see the man he had become, never tell him to be careful and wrap up warm...
Chewing on his lower lip to stop tears falling, he was surprised when a pair of strong arms encircled him and pulled him against a strong chest. Closing his eyes, recognising the scent at once, he allowed himself a brief moment of weakness before turning and whispering his partner's name.
Hermione had given a gasp when she had seen the figure suddenly grab Harry, but she had realised who it had been almost at once, and now she turned away, face pink, pretending to read some of the writing on the battered stone wall.
“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. Not the desperate passion of new love, but the deep emotional connection of a strong bond built on trust and need.
Pulling his lips free, Severus addressed the stone female figure, half seriously, half mockingly, “Lily, I know you would never have understood, and certainly would never have approved, but I'll take good care of him.” He brushed one thumb over a pale, cold tear-stained cheek before finishing, “I promise, for as long as he needs me, I will be there.”
“How about forever?” Harry whispered, crying again.
They both heard a muffled sob come from the direction of Hermione.
In a brisker manner, the older wizard asked, “Is there somewhere safe we can talk?”
Looking down at the witch, Harry rubbed his face against the black robe. He wanted a chance to be alone with Severus, to have sex with him, to have his body filled with a child. It was making him a little cranky, to tell the truth, how much he wanted to be carrying the other man's child.
The witch stood up and led them out of the village. When she and Harry had talked about visiting Godric's Hollow the previous night, she hadn't really considered what would happen. She definitely hadn't considered Severus Snape might be joining them. She blushed a little, wondering if Harry was going to have sex with the older man. Judging by the way he was holding his hand and leaning into him, it seemed clear he wanted to. Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about it. Unlike everyone else at Hogwarts, she had realised what had happened between Snape and Harry. It had shocked and disappointed her. Not that she was a prude, but she had been shocked that her friend had one, been apparently gay, and two, had decided to sleep with a man literally old enough to be his father. The disappointment had been aimed at Dumbledore; who she was sure had known about the situation, but who had clearly done nothing about it. There was some of the same emotion aimed at the former Potions teacher too; he should have stopped this thing from ever getting to the point of sex.
She made her way along a hard path that had been churned up by various vehicles and animals and walked steadily into a large field. During her quick inspection of the area, she had spotted the space and realised that it would make a good place to camp, if they decided to stay.
Behind her, Harry firmly gripped Severus' palm and pressed his side against the firm body. His free hand reached across their bodies and brushed the front of the other man's clothing. Even with the movement of their steps, he felt the warm bulge there. It made every part of him ache with longing. If he had anything to do with it, they would have sex today.
In the time it had taken the two men to reach the field, Hermione had already got the tent out and assembled it; now she was casting the protective spells. Harry reluctantly let go of Snape's hand to assist her, and once they had finished, he beckoned the teacher forward.
Severus was quietly impressed. There was no bubble effect that often occurred when protective spells were cast. He was sure that he would never have found the tent had he not seen it prior to the enchantments being cast.
Inside the tent, he wondered at the smell of cats that pervaded the air, but admired the roominess of the space, and the way it had been organised to provide three separate sleeping areas; a kitchen; a small compartment containing, he presumed, a bathroom; and a large living section. The beaded bag the witch had been clutching was placed down on a table with a loud thunk quite out of keeping with its small size and she made her way to the kitchen to put on the kettle before removing her thick coat.
“Do you like it?” Harry asked nervously. It surprised him, this nervousness. That Snape's opinion mattered about something so silly as where he was hiding whilst on the run seemed ridiculous, but there it was.
“You have lived here all this time?” he queried softly, hoping the answer was no.
“In the tent, yes. Well, since the attack on the Ministry. Here by Godric's Hollow, no. We move around every few days. It's the only way we thought we could stay safe.”
The headmaster nodded, dark eyes gleaming with approval. “Good. I would have been most concerned had you remained in one location for any length of time.” He paused, “Where is the Weasley boy?”
Harry's face soured. “He found out about us and decided he wanted nothing to do with me, because I was a 'perverted freak', stupid asshole!”
Snape felt extremely uncomfortable. He had put his arms around Harry in the village because he had seen the youth's distress oozing out in waves, and he had also thought that Harry would have told his two closest friends about their relationship. “Does Miss Granger...?”
“I'd worked it out,” Hermione said, returning to the main area.
“You would,” Snape said, and it wasn't quite an insult.
He settled in a squishy armchair, smiling to himself when Harry tugged one closer to him and then sank into it. The woman flashed one quick glance at the warming kettle before perching on the arm of the third chair.
“You wanted somewhere we could talk,” Hermione said, hoping to get the conversational ball rolling. She was aware, even if Harry wasn't, that it wasn't safe for Snape to be here for any length of time.
“Indeed. I take it you came here for some purpose?”
Harry shrugged. “I – I just wanted to see where it all began for me,” he admitted, aware that it hadn't been the smartest move to make.
Neither of the other two reprimanded him, so possibly they understood more than he realised.
“Well, the Dark Lord thought you might come here. Partly he imagined you would want to revisit the scene of his downfall to draw strength – it truly would not occur to him that this location might be a painful for you too – or that you had read that dreadful Skeeter woman's book about Albus and had thought that there might be answers here.”
“Why on earth would I have thought that?!” Harry demanded, eyes honestly shocked.
Severus shrugged. “I'm glad someone hasn't read it,” he confessed, “the damn book makes Albus look a dangerous lunatic with a penchant for young boys.”
“I read that much in some of the extracts that were put in the Prophet,” Harry groused, then he grinned, “But you're the one with a penchant for young boys!”
“Stop that!” Snape almost snarled and Harry's grin faded at once to be replaced by genuine concern. “Harry, I appreciate you are only joking, but please, do consider how this would look to the outside world. I was, until recently, a teacher of yours. Our sexual relationship began whilst you were under my direct care at the school, and, as you are aware, I went to school with your parents and am old enough to have fathered you.”
“I don't care about any of that!” Harry snarled, wolf beginning to surface. He leapt out of his seat and leaned over the sitting wizard. “You're my mate and whatever the rest of the world thinks it can go fuck itself as far as I'm concerned! If they have a problem with us then I'll leave Moldy Wort alive; see how they feel about me sleeping with my teacher then!”
There was a slightly dazed silence.
“Harry...” Severus whispered, more touched by the impassioned declaration than he cared to admit, even to himself. He brushed the heaving chest with his hand, then slid up to the neck, stroking over the hidden scars, then along the smooth skin of the youth's face. Tilting his mouth up he brushed Harry's lips with his own. Once, twice, and then Harry was pressing down, pushing his mouth hard onto the older man's, savouring the taste and feel of the skin that only he knew so well.
Their mouths opened and tongues slicked out. Severus flicked his onto the slight swell that was Harry's lips, sliding the muscle along the tops and insides, stealing into the mouth, then he was slipping his tongue in further, rubbing against the other man's slick length, massaging the hot slippery flesh, remembering the smell and taste and feel around him.
Harry's hands, which had thumped down on either side of Snape during his rant, now clutched at the black clothing, and he moaned at the thought of lying under Severus. Or riding. He didn't care so long as he got Severus inside him.
Sobbing, he tugged his lips away, “Please...” he groaned before diving back in.
One of Snape's hands slid up and along the body, curling around a rounded buttock. He fucked hard with his tongue as he felt the helpless jerk of Harry's hips at the touch on his ass.
Moaning, Harry pulled free, kissing the pale neck. “My room,” he panted, “Now, god, please, now!”
He pulled on the clothes, getting the older wizard moving, not that Snape was resisting. They stumbled to the room Harry used and disappeared inside.
Face flaming, Hermione stood and made herself a drink from the nearly boiling kettle. Screwing her eyes shut, she tried to turn out the images that flashed behind her eyes. Having seen Harry masturbate, she knew all too well exactly how he looked when aroused. Also, seeing him with a finger pushed inside his anus had made the fact of his sexual relationship with another man all the more real. She knew, of course, that two men had anal sex when they were intimate, but to see Harry actually pushing something there, and clearly enjoying it, had made the act seem all too easily imaginable to her.
Having no desire to imagine it, and even less desire to hear it, she quickly cast a spell to keep the two men's noises in the room and then she went back to reading Beedle the Bard.
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CH8 Preview: “Mmm?” Harry moaned, head spinning with the pleasure of smelling and touching and tasting Snape all at the same time. “Oh, oh yes, I'm able to have pups.” He kissed Severus' pale lips gently as the other man gasped, and whispered, “I can have your pups.” He kissed the mouth again, “Our children, Severus.” Another soft kiss, “I want our children.”
The older wizard was stunned but moved by the words. Children. Children with Harry. He'd long given up any hope of offspring, and now, here he was, being told by his werewolf partner that it was not only possible, it was desired.
- 6
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