Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Plan B	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10288 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and universe belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter 8
Coming downstairs one morning three weeks later, he tidied up the waiting area and was about to go into his work space when Kreacher popped up by him. It was unusual for the elf to show himself on the ground floor and it made Harry nervous.
“Master!”
Harry waited. The elf was clearly very agitated about something.
“Master, there is a horrible message on the wall outside. An awful message!”
The little elf began wailing and Harry gasped, “Tell me! What does it say?!”
Trembling, Kreacher whispered, “'Wh – Whore!' Someone called Master a whore!”
Harry stared at Kreacher. He knew the elf was aware of what he did. Even if the creature didn't like it, he understood that his owner had no real alternative other than living as a Muggle. And that Kreacher would never countenance. “Well, I am one,” Harry said reasonably, trying not to let his anger show.
“But M – Master shouldn't be insulted!”
Rubbing his forehead, Harry sank onto a couch. He suddenly glanced up,”Hang on, how come you can see and hear me? I've cast charms all round this room.”
“Kreacher can always communicate with his master. House elves always can.”
“Oh, right. House elf thing.” Harry muttered. “Kreacher, can you get rid of the graffiti? I'm guessing somebody has used some kind of magic to stick it on there, but your house elf powers might be able to clean it up. Could you give it a try, please?”
“Of course, Master. Kreacher will try at once.” The elf was about to disapparate when Harry suddenly cried out.
“Hang on! Don't let anyone see you! You are rather well-known as my elf, so it would give away who I am!”
Kreacher bowed and vanished leaving Harry to hope no-one did spot the elf and come to the obvious conclusion. Shaking his head he got up and went into his room. Really, it made no sense to write 'whore' on the wall. After all, hanging next to the door into his section of the building was a plaque decorated with two broomsticks, one atop the other. That had appeared after his permit had been sent through the post, and was, apparently, the magical sign denoting a sex worker. Under the broomsticks were a range of symbols. These told anyone who was interested just what he'd do. There was a symbol of a man changing into a woman and back again (fairly clearly that showed he'd be comfortable with Polyjuice); an image of a man changing into a child and then a large flashing X was next (he didn't allow Polyjuice to be used to have sex with a child); then a bottom being spanked and turning faintly pink (that one always made him blush); a man waving a wand that did nothing (Squibs welcome); and finally an image of three people wrapped around one another, who faded into a second flashing X (Harry didn't do sex with more than one partner at a time). Under all this was his sex worker number and the official approval from the Ministry.
He had hardly cleaned and lubricated himself before he was hearing the thunk of a wand dropping into the slot. Without much interest he padded out, sighing wearily. Maybe he'd request some holiday and go somewhere in the Muggle world. Although, if he did that, it meant he'd spend money and have to work longer in his business before he could escape it. Walking over to the slot he saw the deep golden coloured wand and felt his heart leap: 'Severus' had had a wand that colour.
He measured it against the ruler and had to bite back a sob of dismay. “Pine. Thirteen and a half inches.”
He waited then asked, “What would you like?”
“Harry Potter fucking Harry Potter,” the voice replied, sounding highly aroused already.
Feeling sick, and wondering how the hell he was supposed to have sex with himself (was it incest? Masturbation?) he moved the vial so that it could be taken by his client.
When the newcomer stepped through, wearing Harry's face but with a very different walk and even a different way of holding himself, Harry felt horrified. How could anyone he knew not recognise him? Then he calmed. Ron certainly hadn't, and he had been Harry's first ever friend.
“So,” his client said, almost drawling. “I'd love to see you sucking my cock.” He undid his trousers and played with the length he held – Harry's length.
Fighting down the combined urge to yell at the stranger and be sick, Harry dropped to his knees and examined this part of himself. He'd never seen his dick this closely before; never seen the way the testicles hung under his shaft; never seen the swollen tip from this angle.
“Stop admiring it, you whore, and suck it!”
For once, desperate to know this man's real identity, rather than think of him as 'Harry', Harry dipped his head and licked the cock. A burst of salty liquid hit his tongue. Was that how his own semen tasted? His stomach was rebelling and he hadn't even begun.
“Come on, blow me.”
Forcing down the awful feelings, Harry drew the cock between his lips and began pleasuring the client. He lapped at the tip, striking the slit forcefully as he knew he loved that, then slicked his touch around to the tightly stretched skin pulled back from the swollen head. He passed his tongue over the skin, feeling it shifting slightly as he did so. It was something he wanted done to him.
His hands came forward and began stroking and cupping the testicles. Rolling the balls around inside their sacs he thought about how much he liked getting a blow job, and how rare an occurrence it was in his new profession.
“Harder,” the fake Harry choked out, hips rising and falling as the whore worked the hard dick. “Oh, damn!” There was a frantic thrusting of hips and then Harry's mouth was flooded with fluid. He swallowed it without thinking, refusing to let his mind dwell on what he was tasting.
Harry had never been happier to see a client leave. But before the man had gone, he had asked, “Do you have polyjuice antidote? I need to meet a friend in a minute.”
Harry nodded. He did keep some polyjuice antidote, but it was rarely requested. Now he handed the vial to his doppelganger and told him to take it once back out in the antechamber.
That done, he sank onto his bed and pressed his forehead into his hands. What the hell was he doing with his life?
A wand thunked into the slot but he refused to look at it. He didn't want to see some other random asshole. A single tear slid down his face. Wiping it away angrily he looked up, glaring at the wand.
And then ran across the room.
“P – Pine. Fourteen inches,” he choked out, heart pounding.
“What would you like?” he asked once the outer door was closed.
“You.” The answer was so simple, but it made his cock leap. “I thought I'd pay for two hours with you, maybe find out some more about you and what makes you so drawn to Snape.”
“Will you need Polyjuice?” Harry had to swallow past the dryness in his throat.
“Well, you do have a thing for Severus Snape, now, don't you? And I would like to see Potter again.”
A portion of Polyjuice was pushed through the small flap to the other side and then, once the other had dropped the vial into the chute, Harry unlocked the door.
“Morning,” 'Severus' said, his voice deep and as arousing as ever.
Harry pushed the door too hard and it slammed shut. “S – Sorry,” he stammered, dick throbbing.
The older man prowled over to him and tilted the face up. “Remarkable,” he whispered.
“What's remarkable?”
'Snape' didn't seem to answer. Instead he asked, “How many people have you had sex with since you began this job?”
Flushing, Harry got some distance. As much as Ron asking about how much it would cost was a breach of etiquette, that was nothing to being curious about other clients. “Why do you need to know?” he asked in annoyance.
“I'd like to know just how many witches and wizards are blind to the obvious.”
Harry crossed his arms and glared. It was not as intimidating as he might have thought, given that he was naked and still half hard.
'Snape' sat on the bed and looked coolly at the annoyed young man. “I mean, the obvious fact that you are not using Polyjuice potion. That you are, actually, Harry Potter.”
Shitshitshitshitshitshit
“I – I'm not. It's just the potion.” Harry choked out.
'Severus' gave him a look that said quite clearly Harry's denial wasn't believed. “You can look like a person, but Polyjuice won't make you walk like that person, or have the same speech patterns as that person. No, you're truly him. And I do have to wonder at how useless your friends are if they were unable to stop you from sliding into this life.”
Face flaming, Harry burst out. “It'd hardly be fair to ask them to risk their lives and careers by standing up to the Ministry, would it?!”
“So you aren't denying it any more?”
“What would be the point?” Harry asked. Part of him felt glad it was all over, even if it did mean prison or exile. “You know. So, why not turn me in and get whatever the reward is? Maybe they'll even give you Sirius' house!”
“As if I want anything that belonged to that mutt!” 'Snape' sneered.
Head snapping back, Harry fixed his eyes on the man sitting opposite him. “You sound just like Snape,” he said, voice low. “Like the real one, I mean.”
'Severus' stood up. He brushed an imaginary speck of dust from the black trousers he wore. “Did you really think, Potter, that most people come here to be someone else? No, they come here to be themselves and to have the fantasy of buggering you. I bet most of the Polyjuice potion you buy is never drunk.”
“I make it,” Harry said automatically, not responding to the disturbing notion Snape had raised.
“Then it's probably better it's never drunk,” he commented, lips twisting in a cruel smile.
And with that, that particular sneer he knew so well, Harry realised the truth. He wasn't the only one who didn't need Polyjuice. Somehow he clawed down his rising panic and responded.
“It's your fucking recipe!” Harry snapped.
That stopped Snape. He fixed dark eyes on the green ones and spoke softly, his voice at that dangerous tone he sometimes got when he was on the edge of real fury. “Say that again.”
“It's yours.” Harry rubbed his face, feeling exhausted. “I still have your copy of Advanced Potion Making and I use your notes to make my Polyjuice.”
“I thought that book had been hidden.”
Shrugging, Harry answered. “It was. But I liked having it. It was helpful. And, given what's happened since, it's a bloody good thing I did take it back.”
Snape settled back on the bed. “But, again, as interesting as it is to know you still have my old text book, that is not why I am here. How did you end up in this life, Potter?”
Sighing, Harry sank down next to him and began talking. Severus was a surprisingly good listener. He didn't interrupt or criticise, he just listened quietly and reserved his comments until after Harry had finished. Neither of them seemed to notice the oddity that one was fully dressed and the other totally naked. “And you are now caught in this life forever?”
“Not forever. Only until I earn enough to be able to live, then I'll walk away.”
Snape snorted. “Do you think it will be so easy? The Ministry seems to have ensured that anyone in your position remains there. Do you believe they would allow you to leave?”
“I've got to believe I'll get out of this. How could I go on otherwise?”
Severus rubbed his thigh. “I will need to investigate all the ramifications of what you want and how it can be achieved without the Ministry denying you. Now, other than the fee and the potion – what potion is it, by the way?”
Harry's brow wrinkled as he remembered back to that day at the Ministry. “Erm, Vale... something.”
“Valetudo?!” Severus' voice was shrill with horror. “That is lethal!”
“Lethal?” Harry said blankly.
“It was developed to help those with chronic conditions. Its dosage is severely restricted. Any more than two doses a day can cause irreparable damage to a body. The Ministry must be aware of that, and they force you to take it?!”
Somehow, it didn't surprise Harry that the Ministry was feeding him a potion that would kill him. Tears rolled down his cheeks as the hopelessness of his position was reinforced. “How long do I have?” he asked quietly, all too aware that for over eight months he'd been taking around three doses a day. Some days he had swallowed five portions of the lethal brew.
Snape seemed genuinely distressed. “It affects different people in different ways. I – I can't recall all the stages, but I do remember that proof of the onset of Valetudo poisoning usually presents in the form of stomach pain.”
Suddenly aware that he was in real trouble, Harry whispered, “Every time I take it, my stomach hurts.”
Severus turned devastated eyes to the younger man. “You must stop taking it! At once!”
“How can I? If I don't I fail my next inspection and lose everything, or worse, get an STMD.”
“You have options, Potter. You always have had. You could have come to me. You could make a stand and show the Ministry up.”
Harry didn't even bother trying to get enthused about the struggle. What would be the point? If he challenged the Ministry, they'd win and he'd end up in Azkaban.
“What happened?” Severus asked, seeing the resignation in the whore's body language. “You used to rush blindly into battles.”
“And I used to get my ass handed to me on a plate,” Harry noted, “and besides. I'm older now. The world isn't so black and white any more.”
“It never was. But given the forces of light supposedly won, the grey seems rather more black than it should be.” He seemed to be weighing his next words carefully. “How easily can you take a break from all this? I don't want you taking any more of that potion than you need to.”
Harry explained that he could take twenty days holiday, but no more than that.
“That's a start,” the older man commented. “Now, I need to research the laws governing your industry and see what can be done about changing things.”
“Why would you bother?” Harry asked, “You've done more than enough to save the wizarding world, but it clearly doesn't really want saving. It never did. It just wanted one evil dictator to be replaced with another. Why keep struggling? Just go and find somewhere quiet to rest and enjoy your life in peace.”
“I want nothing more than that,” Snape admitted, “however, this injustice cannot remain if I am to have any peace.”
“Don't expect my help. Kingsley already made it clear I should marry and have children, so he isn't going to side with me on this.” He frowned at Snape, “Why haven't you been forced to marry?”
“I was never fool enough to tell anyone of my sexuality.”
Harry ignored the subtle rebuke. “Well then, you've got even more to lose. You side with me and everyone will leap at once to the logical conclusion that you're gay and your stuff will be seized.”
Black eyes seemed to stare at nothing for a moment. “I can't believe Shacklebolt condones this treatment of this particular segment of society. Certainly, the man I knew would never have allowed these abuses to occur.”
“Well, the man you knew became Minister for Magic. And he is probably so focused on getting the big things sorted that things like fair rent and decent treatment for sex workers when they have their health check are not important.” Harry tried not to sound bitter but it was difficult when he thought of the pain of being checked.
Snape gave him a look as the younger man walked him through the finer points of a Ministry inspection. By the end of it, that red glow was simmering in the dark eyes. “This will stop, Potter,” Severus swore, voice low with anger, “I will find out all there is to know and this will stop.”
Harry didn't disbelieve his ex-teacher, he'd just stopped believing in miracles. And he knew what he was; what people wanted when they came here … He glanced up at the clock. “You've been here an hour and a half,” he commented, “Want to have sex?”
Snape looked at him. “You want that, even knowing I'm no imposter but the man you loathed at Hogwarts? It wouldn't be awkward for you?”
“What about you? You came here looking for a 'Harry Potter' to fuck, and here I am. Isn't it weirder for you when you remember me as an eleven year old who thought you were out to steal the Philosopher's Stone?”
An expression of horror on his face, the older man stood up. “I've looked for you for six months. Slept with plenty of whores who all claimed to look just like you, but there's only one you. But now I can't get past the image of you as a child, before the world became so dark.”
Harry got off the bed and faced Severus. His hands stroked the cream linen shirt covering the flat stomach. He focused on the material, unable to lift his face and meet the other man's eyes. “I wasn't lying last time: I have fancied you for ages. It was because I wanted to see if we could ever have a relationship that I'm here, cos Kingsley told me how things would have to be. Even then I never considered not going after you, one day, when I wasn't stuck here in this room.”
Letting out a shuddering breath, Severus leaned in, tilted Harry's face up and kissed him firmly on the lips. Harry moaned and let the older man slide his tongue inside and then clung to the clothing, dazed at the intense sensation. His dick rigid between his legs, he closed the gap between them and rubbed himself against the other man, thrilled to feel the answering hardness. But suddenly he pulled away. “I can't,” he said, almost sobbing, “I can't kiss you.”
“Am I still just a client?”
“No. Never. But, I can't. Please, please don't do that again.”
Severus stepped back. “You need to decide what I am to you. I will pay you for your time if that is what you prefer, and I will always ensure I get precisely what I want from our encounters, or you decide that I am more than a paying customer and treat me as such.”
Harry's shoulders slumped. His cheeks were wet. “I – I want you so much. But I can't kiss clients. I just can't.”
Snape sighed. “Well, I see an obvious solution, even if you don't.”
“I can't be in a relationship with you, either. Ministry rules.”
This time Severus snarled. “I don't recall you caring one jot for rules at school. In fact you seemed to delight in breaking as many as possible each year. As for the Ministry rules, I shall be reading them with care, and believe me, if there is any way you can make a choice about who you wish to allow into your life, I will find it.”
With that he dropped money in the dish, ignoring the change that appeared in the bowl, snatched his wand, and left Harry to cry alone over what he was letting walk away from him.
***
LadyRaven - Congratulations! And on the subject of wands, at the HP studio I had a chance to hold Snape's wand (I WISH!) - a replica. And it was very black. Having seen that made me have to alter something in this. By the way, the woods in this all have meanings.
And yes, of course there is more fuckery coming from the Ministry.
Thunderbird - hopefully this chapter will make you stop feeling so worried.
Book_addict_89 - keep having the sinking feelings. And yes I am sneaky, but even I don't hold off the Snarry unnecessarily (uh, remembers Changes... forget that comment).
- 7
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- 9
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Plan B