Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Tasks	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 5179 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in anyway, shape or form. The rights of such belong solely to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money or accrue any monetary benefit on this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Harry walked away stiffly towards the garden. The sorcerer fell into step beside him. Although Harry didn’t look at him, he could feel the man’s glare digging into the side of his face.
When they reached the garden, Harry couldn’t help but stare. It was divided into three separate sections: one for fruit, one for vegetables and one for herbs and spices. Row after row of neatly planted flora met his eye. He recognized many of the specimens closest to him from his Herbology classes but the farther ones blurred into the distance. “This is splendid, sir. I’ve never seen so many varieties in one place.”
The lips twitched at the compliment and Harry marveled at the change in him. It was not quite a smile, but the harsh lines of the enchanter’s face softened, making him look much less formidable. “Thank you, Potter. This garden is my pride and joy. The plants needed for my potions all come from here, making my concoctions highly sought after.”
“You sell your potions? I thought you were a teacher.”
“You don’t believe I could manage all this,” sweeping his arm wide to indicate the grounds, “on a mere teacher’s salary, do you?”
“But you told me you taught at Durmstrang!”
“Past tense. I was a teacher. At the time, I thought Durmstrang offered an opportunity to learn more of the Dark Arts and pass on my talents to children. However, I discovered I had little patience to deal with dunderheaded brats and quit as soon as was decently possible. Making potions suited my temperament much better. I charge highly for my concoctions but people agree that I’m worth the price.”
It sounded like sheer arrogance. But Snape evidently knew his own worth and was unashamed of his abilities. And the richness of everything around him was testimony to the man’s skill.
Draco must have known all this. How had it escaped the prince’s attention? Perhaps he simply didn’t care. Anything pertaining to hard work was a matter of complete indifference to the blond royal, it seemed.
Harry was suddenly aware how close the other man was standing. The softened mood of the sorcerer made his skin tingle. He was nervous but it was a different nervousness than when Draco had sat next to him. He swallowed and stepped away, breaking the fragile mood holding them together.
“Well…I’ll get started with the angelica right away.” Without further prompting, Harry found the needed plant and began pulling it carefully from the soil. He could sense the sorcerer watching him for a time before the man withdrew.
The sun rose in the sky and Harry began to feel very warm. He stripped off his robe so he was wearing only his T-shirt and jeans but he still felt the effects of the summer heat as he hadn’t when he was under the mulberry trees.
He wasn’t allowed to use magic to complete his chore. But surely he could use it on himself? Surreptitiously, he cast a Cooling Charm, waiting tensely for the sorcerer to spring on him. When no attack was forthcoming, he allowed himself to relax and continued his work.
__________
It seemed to take forever. But he was finally done and the basket was full. Heaving it up with his arms, Harry stifled a cry at the weight. Merlin, that hurt something fierce. He should have used the Lightening Charm that Hermione had taught him. Belatedly, he cast it on the basket but he could feel the ache in his back that told him he’d strained a muscle.
Draping his robe over his arm, he staggered to the house and kicked the door with his foot. The door swung open at the first thump, with the sorcerer on the other side like he’d been lying in wait. Snape blinked and his eyes ran quickly down Harry’s stripped form. Harry wondered what he was looking at. Did the man disapprove of his Muggle clothing?
The sorcerer appeared to recover his usual stoicism. “Finished so soon?” He peered suspiciously at the basket’s contents as though he thought Harry might have rushed through it.
“Yes, sir. These are all the ripened angelicas. There were some that hadn’t quite reached maturity. So I left them in the ground.”
The black eyebrows arched in surprise. “Well done, Potter,” was the grudging reply.
Harry beamed, unexpectedly pleased at his praise. “Thank you, sir. Where should I leave these?”
“Bring them to my lab.” Without another word, Snape turned and walked into the depths of the hallway. He waved his hand and one of the side doors opened. Harry peered into what seemed to be an impenetrable darkness. “My lab is down these stairs. Do be careful not to trip, Potter. I’d hate to have all the morning’s work wasted.”
A muttered “Lumos” from Snape and bronze wall sconces sprang to life, shedding light down the shadowy stairwell. Harry cautiously walked down the flight of narrow steps, the sorcerer following close upon his heels.
The stairs seemed to go down forever and Harry’s legs were shaking by the time they reached the ground floor. Finally they arrived at a large subterranean stone chamber.
Harry gaped at the sight, momentarily forgetting his aching back. Shining wooden and marble tables were laid out on the spotless stone floor, stretching on for several yards. Various instruments hung on hooks lined one wall, while gleaming bottles of potions ingredients resting on shelves covered the other. Cauldrons of iron, bronze, silver and gold plate sat in neat rows on lower shelves.
“Wow. This is amazing.”
“Thank you, Potter.” There was another of those almost-smiles; Snape was unable to hide pleasure at Harry’s appreciation, it seemed. The next moment, he schooled his features to their usual blankness. “Put the basket near that table.”
Harry lowered the basket. In spite of the Lightening Charm, the movement caused the muscle in his back to twinge and he choked back a sharp gasp.
“What is wrong? Are you in pain?”
If he complained, Snape would just accuse James Potter’s son of being a crybaby. “I’m all right…sir,” he answered, straightening carefully.
“Do not lie to me, boy,” Snape growled. “You have been concealing your discomfort for several minutes now.”
Damn, he thought he’d hidden it. Nothing escaped that gimlet stare, it seemed. “It’s just a small ache. It’ll pass.”
“That’s why your gait has grown progressively stiffer with each passing moment. Don’t play the martyr, Potter. It’s unattractive.” Snape moved closer, his eyes running over Harry. “Did my hound hurt you?”
“No…sir.” The beast nearly tore him apart and now the man was showing concern? Well, he should take advantage of Snape’s helpful mood while it lasted. “I fell on my knee while watching him and had to sleep on a hard floor. Now my back hurts a little. I used a Cushioning Charm but it doesn’t seem to have worked.”
There, that made it look like Snape’s fault rather than his own carelessness. Sure enough, the man seemed embarrassed at his own thoughtlessness. “Well, there’s no need for you to suffer needlessly. Follow me.” Without waiting to see if he obeyed, Snape led Harry to a narrow door the young man hadn’t noticed before.
Beyond the door was a little room. It held a desk, lamp and a narrow bed and nothing else. When Harry looked at him, a question in his eyes, Snape explained, “Whenever I take short breaks from brewing, I rest in here. It keeps me near my potions without going to the trouble of Apparating back and forth from my main bedchamber.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” Harry wasn’t sure what the man meant, either by bringing him here or his explanation.
“Take off your shirt and get on the bed.”
“What?!?” Harry bleated.
Snape sneered. “Don’t get any silly ideas, Potter. I have some balm I use whenever I’ve tired myself brewing. I will smear it on your back. It should ease any aches you’re suffering.”
“Oh. Thank you…sir.” He set his glasses on the small table and shrugged off his T-shirt, his back to Snape. Even without looking at the man, Harry felt that stare boring into him. It made him go hot all over and he was glad the man couldn’t see his face. He bent over to take off his trainers, wincing when his back throbbed at the movement.
There was a stifled gasp behind him. It sounded really…peculiar. Deciding to ignore it, Harry stretched out on the bed, laying on his stomach, and looked at the older sorcerer inquiringly.
Fuzzily, he could make out that the other man was staring at him. There was an intensity to his gaze that made Harry flush again. “Um, sir? The balm?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Snape reached into the small table beside the bed and withdrew a small covered jar filled with a pale green gel. When he twisted off the lid, the tiny room filled with the smell of a grasslike substance. Harry sniffed appreciatively.
“Yucca plant. Good for…”
“Aches and pains. Some varieties can be eaten, others used as a cleanser.” Harry grinned at Snape’s raised eyebrows. “My potions teacher tells me I’m almost as good as my mum when it comes to potions.”
“Quite. Your mother was…excellent at the art.” Snape’s voice gentled. His gaze caught Harry’s. “Your eyes are much like hers,” he added quietly.
Snape knew his mum? Well, naturally, if he knew James Potter, he’d know about Lily. But why had his mother never spoken about Snape? Why did Snape talk about her like that? It was just another mystery of the many surrounding the sorcerer and Harry was suddenly frustrated by how little he knew of this man.
He watched as Snape scooped out a glob of yucca with two fingers. Before Harry could brace himself, he began to smear it in the small of his back.
Harry turned away his face, burying it in the pillow. Snape’s touch was unexpectedly tender, his supple fingers almost caressing his skin. They splayed over his backbone and began rubbing in small circles, lightly digging into his flesh, seeking out and massaging the areas that hurt.
Harry could feel a flush burning his face. To his dismay, his body was reacting in a very unanticipated manner to the enchanter’s touch. When Snape’s second hand joined in, he couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper.
The hands stopped immediately. “Am I hurting you?”
“N-no.” Harry bit his lip. That came out too breathy. Snape would know something was wrong. He swallowed and tried again. “No, you’re not hurting me.”
“You mentioned you’d fallen on your knee. Which one was it?” Snape’s voice sounded even stranger than his…hoarse, softer and lower, the tone sultry, winding over Harry’s skin like his hands.
“T-the left one.”
Silently, Snape resumed. He pushed up the left trouser leg and held Harry’s leg with one hand, rubbing the salve into the affected area with the other. Harry’s need was becoming more desperate with each passing second. In another moment, he was going to embarrass himself and earn Snape’s anger by soiling his bed.
“Does it ache anywhere else?”
Harry resisted the urge to burrow his head deeper into the pillow. Merlin, if the man only knew…
“Potter?”
He could stand it no longer. That voice and those touches were unraveling what little self-control he had left. “Sir, I-I… That’s enough. My back feels much better now. You don’t have to keep touching me,” Harry said, trying to sound grateful rather than dismissing.
The maddening strokes stopped. Harry didn’t hear Snape withdraw. But then the sorcerer had the uncanny ability to move soundlessly. Harry snuck a peek and saw Snape standing near the door, his back turned towards him.
Of course. Snape must have hated touching him. He was the son of James Potter, after all. Feeling mysteriously depressed by the man’s distance, Harry scrambled off the bed and jerked on his T-shirt. Pulling it down over his head, he wasn’t too surprised to see the room was empty.
He emerged and found the sorcerer busily chopping up the angelica. Without looking at him, Snape gestured towards the stairs. “These leaves appear adequate, Potter. You may leave me now. Dinner is promptly at seven in the kitchen. Do not be late.”
“Yes, sir. Um…”
“What is it?” the other man snapped.
“You never told me where I am to stay while I’m here.”
The sorcerer paused. “Go up to the second floor from the main one. I have made out a room for you, the third door on the left.”
Harry hesitated but nothing more was forthcoming. He still needed relief from Snape’s attentions and that private room sounded really good right about now.
He walked up the stairs as fast as he was able, struggling with his confusion…and a considerable stiffy.

TBC
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Tasks