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The Way of the Patronus	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 15104 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
The hex flew towards Harry and only a sharp duck enabled him to dodge it. It left a scorch mark on one of the protective mattresses and he stared at it in disbelief.
“Bloody hell, Severus! What do you think you’re doing? You could have killed me!”
“Don’t be melodramatic, Potter. It’s a mild Scorching Hex, barely more than a tickle,” Severus sneered.
That blast mark didn’t resemble a tickle to him. And Severus was looking downright furious. He had thought they were getting along better these days; what was the problem now?
“Levicorpus!” As noted in the Advanced Potions-Making book, Harry managed to make the spell nonverbal and Severus flew towards the ceiling.
Neat as a cat, Severus twisted in the air and landed on his feet. His face was twisted with insane fury as he advanced on Harry, wand drawn. “Where did you learn that spell, Potter?” When Harry hesitated, he roared, “WHERE?!”
Harry held his wand out, warily eyeing the man before him. The Slytherin’s expression was terrifying. He had seen it only once before: when he and Hermione had helped Sirius to escape the Dementor’s Kiss. Minister Fudge had been stupefied at Snape’s uncontrolled explosion of anger. Dumbledore’s mild rejoinder that Snape had merely suffered a cruel disappointment had not been enough to erase that memory.
He wordlessly cast the most powerful Shield Charm he knew. Severus was moving too quickly to avoid it and bounced off it before staggering upright again. “You cannot hide behind that forever, Potter. So I suggest you answer my question. Where did you learn that spell?” he whispered icily.
Harry drew a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I think you know…Prince.”
Severus’s slackened expression would have been comical on anyone else. It disappeared almost at once to a studied blankness. “I don’t know what stupid game you’re playing now, Potter. But you will address me as Professor or Sir. I’ve told you this before.”
“You went by the name Half-Blood Prince once, didn’t you? Well, that’s what you called yourself. Reckon you didn’t let anyone else know about that.”
The blankness was replaced by a sneer. “Ah. This would explain your recent lauded success in Potions. So the dimwitted Gryffindor is capable of learning. I would congratulate you except that it’s borrowed genius only.”
“I’m not looking for congratulations,” Potter retorted. “I want to know what’s going on here.”
“We are attempting a DADA lesson. Has your addled mind forgotten that already?”
“I’m not talking about that! You’re being vicious--more so than usual--and I want to know where it’s coming from.”
“Are the lessons becoming too hard for you? Do you want to quit? I should have known you don’t have what it takes to commit to the hard work, Potter,” Severus sneered.
“That’s not it and you know it! And what’s with the Potter crap? We’re alone here. You can call me Harry.”
“I will call you what I wish, you insolent whelp!”
“Fine! Then I have every right to call you Severus!”
“You will not take such liberties--”
“But it’s alright for you to fire blistering hexes at me? I’m trying to learn here, Severus, not wind up in the hospital wing. That’d be hard to explain, seeing as you let everybody know I’m not taking DADA lessons any more!”
“Afraid of a few injuries, is that it? You think the Dark Lord will be kind or take it easy on you? You are a pathetic whiner, Potter, without the stomach needed to take on your enemies.”
Harry gritted his teeth, biting back the incautious words. He had endured more misery, abuse and attack in his life than most adults, wizards or Muggles, ever had to. Severus knew this, had seen it in his mind often enough. Why was he attacking like this?
The man wouldn’t tell him, he knew. Even now he was casting wordless spells to break through Harry’s shield and, when he had, the brutal attacks would continue. Harry knew he had to be ready before that happened.
He dropped the shield unexpectedly. Being Severus could rally, he stared into the onyx eyes. “Legilimens!”
He saw Severus sitting at the Head Table, staring with whitened face and tight lips at the Gryffindors. When he followed the direction of the man’s gaze, he saw Ginny leaning towards him. From Severus’s viewpoint, it looked like the red-haired girl was kissing him on the cheek.
He was shunted into the man’s bedroom. The surroundings were elegant but he barely took notice. Instead he was caught by the vision on the bed.
During their hurried encounters, Harry hadn’t gotten a chance to get a good look at the man’s body and what he saw now made his heart leap like a startled deer.
A naked, sweating Severus lay there. Candlelight flickered over the bared skin, the soft light softening the normally sallow complexion to an ivory glow only a shade darker than the white sheets.
The young Severus had been a scrawny weakling, with knees and elbows jutting out unattractively. His face had lacked the defining cheekbones to offset the bulging nose. The body on the bed had gained in tone, becoming lean, rangy, with muscles cording in the arms. Delicate, long hands and feet completed the image of grace combined with rugged sensuality.
Severus Snape would never be handsome in the conventional sense of the word. But this man proved how lacking the teenager had been in terms of masculine attraction to the fully formed adult Harry saw before him.
The legs seemed to go on forever, leading up to hips too firm to be mistaken for a girl’s yet oddly supple for all that. A nest of inky black hair spread across the crotch, providing the perfect background for the long, throbbing column of flesh gripped in the thin fingers.
A pillow had been placed under the lean hips, putting the reddish-purple cock in prominent view. Black hair spread across another pillow and the harsh features clenched in concentration, as the man stroked himself off slowly while the other hand thrust two slender fingers into his arse.
Severus’s whole body was twisting, completely out of control, as his grunts and pants filled the room. The hand on his cock sped up, the fingers slipping over the thick cap and down over the meaty shaft. Harry’s mouth watered while he watched it get thicker, fatter, within Severus’s fist. The narrow hips were thrusting faster and the encased fingers increased their pace to match.
“Harry,” he moaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing into an open-mouthed swallow. “Harry…dear Merlin…yes, love, yes. Fuck me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. The whole body tensed, the lean hips arched off the bed and Harry heard him give a guttural cry as he came all over the squeezing hand.
Abruptly, he was flung out of the memory and found himself staring at the man’s back. Severus had turned around, his entire form an unbending black statue.
Had Severus called him…love? He had. Even though it was uttered in the secrecy of his own chambers, Severus had used the word. His silent withdrawal now was proof of that. If anyone had cause to fear the emotion, it was Severus Snape.
“Severus…”
The DADA professor spun around so quickly Harry flinched backwards. The ebony eyes were blazing in that stark white face. Harry was so close he could see the man trembling.
“If you ever tell anyone about this, Potter, you will regret the day you were born.”
Harry stared at him, once more choking back a sharp retort. Hadn’t he reason and more to regret the day he was born? But he knew an argument now would be a very bad idea. Severus was on the verge of an explosion--whether magical or emotional, it didn’t matter. Harry had to calm him down somehow or else he’d be in real trouble.
He badly wanted to reach out and touch Severus. The man’s emotions, reeking of fear, anguish and rage, were tugging at him so much it was like his heart were being yanked out of his chest. It was so bad, it actually hurt.
When had Severus’s pain become his? He didn’t know. But he had to ease the man’s obvious distress and half measures wouldn’t do it.
“I wouldn’t tell. I haven’t told anyone about us. It’s been so…” he struggled for words to convince “…so precious to me. Why would I want to risk it all by talking?”
The anger sparking in those black eyes faded to confusion. “Precious? Are you mad, Potter?”
“Only for you.” Before Severus could move away, Harry wound his arms around that unyielding form and kissed him.
The hum from the Slytherin’s magic melted onto his skin, wrapping him in its embrace. Severus tried to pull away but Harry wouldn’t allow it, letting his body lean against Severus in his wordless efforts to convince this hardheaded man of his sincerity. He could have cried in relief when the wiry arms finally bound him close, lifting him up to his toes.
When their lips parted, the black eyes searched his. He could almost feel the unspoken question. “I don’t want Ginny. I never have. She’s wanted me since she was a kid. But I never returned her feelings.”
“She kissed you,” was the low murmur.
“She didn’t. She was…making me an offer. I would never kiss her…not unless I was under a spell,” Harry said. A penny dropped. “Severus…are you jealous?”
Pale cheeks flushed faintly even as the onyx eyes went stony. “I won’t be made a fool of, Harry.”
Again. The unsaid word hung between them. Harry gave him another fervent kiss. “I don’t want to make a fool of you. I’m a big enough fool for us both.”
The joke caused the older man’s lips to twitch, lightening the mood, as Harry hoped. Then Severus sighed and rested his forehead against Harry’s. “Foolish brat. This is impossible.”
“I’ve been doing the impossible since I was a year old,” Harry whispered back. “I love you, Severus.”
The black eyes widened in disbelief. When he’d first met Professor Snape, he’d thought those eyes long, barren tunnels with no warmth or expression within them. But the emotions filling them now were so clear, he wondered how he’d never noticed before.
“You love…you cannot. This is a spell,” Severus muttered.
“No spell. I love you.”
Severus continued to stare into the familiar green eyes. The throb of magic in the air, fueled with the power of their emotions, fluttered with eldritch invisible hands, driving him to accept this potent gift.
This time Severus was the first to reach out, to tug the clinging, buttonless shirt over Harry’s head. The ease of its removal made him understand Harry’s own frustration with his own complicated garments. In no time at all, the golden skin was exposed, its shining perfection bared to him. His hands fumbled with the buttons of his own austere dress before he gave up and simply used magic to open the myriad fastenings.
His pants and boots were easily divested of and he watched in confusion as Harry’s eyes devoured his naked form. Severus was all too aware how short his body fell of storied perfection. Yet he had sensed Harry’s desire at the wanking scene replayed in his mind. And his admiration now was utterly sincere.
Why? Why would this undeniably appealing and beautiful young man see him as an object of beauty? “This doesn’t make any sense,” he murmured, only half aware that he’d spoken aloud.
“Nothing about this makes sense, Severus. If you’re looking for logic about this, you’re gonna be disappointed. Love’s funny like that,” Harry whispered.
When he reached to skate calloused fingers across the pale skin, Severus pushed his hands away. “No. Let me…let me show you.” Wordlessly summoning one of the mats from the wall to rest on the floor, he pressed Harry down to its surface.
Lucius had taught him many things about the pleasures of the bedroom; he could thank his former fair-haired playmate for that. He brought each and every one of those skills to bear as he sought to teach Harry what true rapture felt like.
Severus tasted the mouth first, lingering over its fullness. He knew his own lips to be thin by comparison, could recall Lucius’s distaste at kissing him in the past. But Harry kissed him with such eagerness; the youth seemed to be eating the most delectable fruit in creation.
“Mmm, Severus,” he sighed when their lips parted at last.
He made no answer but ghosted over Harry’s skin. Every touch, every kiss, elicited a cry. A fierce suck at the nipples brought ragged nails digging into Severus’s shoulders. When he laved the nubs until they pointed, Harry mewled and arched his back, wordlessly pleading with him to continue. The responsiveness was so appealing; it made him feel the most sensual lover in the world.
He skimmed over the ribs, pressing with his fingers until Harry giggled. Hmm, the lad was ticklish and Severus took a moment to dig there until Harry begged him to stop. When he swept his tongue down the belly to where the prick lay nestled in the bellybutton, he heard a cracked breath and felt the whole frame quiver.
Lucius had been very clear about what he liked in bed and fellatio from Severus had been a treat of which he’d never tired. He had especially liked receiving such attentions standing up while Severus knelt at his feet, the dominance of the position having appealed just as much as the act itself. So he had given detailed instruction about how to give pleasure in this particular aspect of sex.
Severus wanted to give satisfaction. Most of their previous encounters had been too quick. That session against the bookshelf had been about power not delight. Shame seethed through him when he recalled how often Lucius had played such games with him and he silently swore this time would be different.
The head was licked, teased with the tip of his tongue. Harry yelped and then emitted a wild gabbling noise as he encased the cap with his lips. His fingers dug into Severus’s scalp, as he ran a tongue up and down the length. When Severus rolled the balls in his thumbs, the answering shriek made his ears ring.
“Oh, oh shit, Sev…erus…” Harry gave another shrill cry as he suckled the cock. Words dissolved into mindless pleas as Harry completely lost control and began fucking his mouth. Fortunately, the adolescent’s prick wasn’t large and he was able to take it right down to the root.
The flavor was a salted delight, the weight tender and throbbing on his tongue. He seized the hips, yanking the boy harder so that Harry drove into his mouth in an unrelenting rhythm. Harry’s voice deepened in feral cries as his heels drummed on the matting beneath them.
The brat would come any second now; Lucius had taught him to recognize the signs. Suddenly, this lustful abandon wasn’t enough. He wanted to join Harry in his ecstasy. He let the cock drop from his mouth, meeting the frantic gaze as he licked his lips slowly.
“No!” Harry cried, half sitting up.
Biting his lip, Severus crouched above the cock and lifted it to his arse. He had been without penetration for too long to make this entirely comfortable. But he was sure the magic cresting between them would erase any discomfort. In either case, he was too impatient to wait for further preparation.
He sank down onto the tumescent flesh. There was a burning sensation, as he’d expected. But the enchantment surged and drove away the pain at once. He began bobbing up and down over Harry’s cock, squeezing it with his arse on each ascent.
This position was ideal for controlling the depth and speed. But he was no longer young and soon his knees were feeling the ache of crouching over Harry’s writhing figure. Gripping Harry’s shoulders, he tumbled over to lie on his back, bringing the Gryffindor with him.
Harry’s weight landed between his thighs, causing him to grunt. At the youth’s inquiring look he shook his head and spread his legs wide. The brat was a fool if he thought Severus Snape would stop because of a little discomfort.
And then they arched together, pain and anxiety forgotten. Harry’s arms were trembling with the strain of not crushing him. By the way the Gryffindor was moving, so slowly, so very carefully, he was trying not to hurt his partner. The solicitation touched Severus and he sighed softly when Harry graced him with another kiss.
The slender hips were thrusting faster and unintelligible cries ripped out of Severus with every ripple over his prostate. Putting one of Lucius’s instructions into play, he clenched his buttocks as hard as he could with every outward slide. An ululating howl rang in his ears.
Quite satisfactory. So he did it again. He grunted as he twined his ankles together behind Harry’s back, urging him on. “Harder,” he rasped. “Merlin, fuck me like you mean it, brat! I’m not made of glass! I won’t break!”
Gentleness forgotten, Harry plunged balls-deep into him. Severus shouted as he reveled in the roughness of being spanked by the heavy nuts.
Then the sensations became too wild, too chaotic for him to focus on them. Again, every sense was heightened almost unbearably. It was too bright, their voices too loud, the weight of the air pressing them closer than any two humans could ever be without sharing the same heart.
The pleasure rose and beat across his skin. By Circe, it felt like he was dissolving into Harry. It was too much to bear and Severus clenched his eyes shut to stop the process, to exert some measure of control.
Behind his eyelids, he could see a swirl of red fire. It roiled lazily, back and forth, in bright tendrils as though searching for something. Then it rushed towards him.
Without knowing how he knew, he sensed this was Harry’s magic reaching for him. The sheer magnitude of it stunned him, filled him with desire…and unimaginable terror.
It would consume him. He would burn in that fire and lose all awareness of self. It was unconscionable. Even the Dark Lord had never demanded so much of him and he inwardly shrank away in fear.
Then the red fire was all around him. It didn’t burn. Even as he cowered, it merely brushed over his nerves. Calm breathed over his soul in the midst of astounding pleasure. And there was a voice, familiar and wholly foreign, as though not quite human.
Trust me.
How could he? He didn’t know what was happening and he dreaded becoming the victim to circumstances beyond his control.
Trust me. I love you, Severus.
It was the truth. Here, couched deeply in Harry’s mind, there could be no deception. Harry loved him and in the next moment he offered proof.
Severus tumbled through Harry’s thoughts. There weren’t the incisive thrusts like when he would force himself through the brat’s memories. Harry was welcoming him in, a display of trust so complete it stole his breath away. He saw:
Harry poring over the pages of his old Potions book, sniffing the pages, tracing the path of his tears.
Harry tossing in bed with restless hunger, touching himself, softly chanting his name.
Harry stealing longing glances at him in the Great Hall.
Harry confessing to his friends that he was homosexual, gently fielding off their inquiries as to the identity of his partner.
He and Harry fucking for the first time, the expression on the Gryffindor’s face incandescent, and afterwards, Harry’s gentle kisses, so soothing and sweet.
Why hadn’t he noticed those looks before? He had been so terrified, desperate to escape what he felt was a snare laid by this yearning boy. But there was more than mere lust shining from the grass-green eyes in those memories.
Then there were no more thoughts. Without words, without images, it was like he was immersing himself in everything Harry was.
The red flame within teased and beckoned, begging him to surrender. There would be no forcing, he sensed that. Should he hold himself aloof, the fire would retreat and leave him untouched. But this bewitchment, whatever its nature, would remain unfinished and an ache would lodge forever at the root of his soul.
Slytherins could be brave too. His memories, beautiful and foul, flew through his mind. Yet there were things there he didn’t want Harry to see. Sensing his reluctance, the fire coiled deeper, plunging past mere thought to the very heart of him.
An ancient chant rose from within his lover, the rush of a cataract over stones, the flight of a phoenix against the sky.
“Severus Tobias Snape, I claim you as my own.”
As easily as breathing, Severus answered with his own promise.
“Harry James Potter, I claim you as my own.
“Your heart is my heart.
“Your heart is my heart.
“Your flesh is my flesh.
“Your flesh is my flesh.
“Your life is my life.
“Your life is my life.
“You are mine, now and forever.
“You are mine, now and forever.”
Green fire arced from within Severus like ground lightning, rocketing to meet the scarlet flame. The two embraced with an inner shriek of delight. They wound together, two eldritch lovers celebrating their match. The doe and stag Patronuses flared white-hot within his mind and then shattered into a million silver points of light.
Dimly he was aware of Harry’s body arching over his, a high-pitched screaming ringing off the ancient stones. Such was the ecstasy he could not have told from whom it emerged. His body seized in what must have been orgasm but a thousand times more exquisite than any he could remember.
It was bliss neither wholly mortal nor human. It seemed to transcend space, time and being. It could have lasted minutes or months; Severus could not have said either way.
He became aware first of a hand stroking his forehead and breath tickling almost irritatingly over his eyelids. He opened them to stare into the forest green opposite his.
Harry’s expression was stunned, dreamy and sated like a cat that had fed on cream. Severus wondered what his own face looked like. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable but he sensed that what Harry would say next would make all the difference in how they carried on from this moment.
“Um, Severus?”
“Mmmm.”
“When did the bed arrive?”
Severus blinked. Whatever he was expecting Harry to say, it wasn’t that. “Bed?”
“Yeah. The one we’re lying in.”
Severus lifted his head although the action caused his head to wobble alarmingly. Every muscle in his body felt loose as string. Too much movement and he might just slide off the mattress.
Mattress?
Harry was right. They were no longer on one of the training mats but a sumptuous, wide four-poster bed. It was so broad he could have flung his arms out and not reached the edges of it. The sheets were delicious silk, rubbing against him like another skin.
The whole setting of the room had changed, the mats on the wall replaced by oak paneling, soft lighting coming from lit candles set in sconces on the walls. Woven rugs in colors scarlet and verdant lay on the floor. A fireplace had appeared, complete with flames crackling behind the andirons. It was a scene of erotic seduction if he’d ever seen one.
Heat flared across his face and he flung an arm over his face to hide it from the searching gaze. “It seems the Room took our changed…needs into consideration and altered itself to suit.”
He peeked underneath his arm to see Harry grinning at him. “Really? This room is so brill!”
“Quite.” Good, it seemed the brat wasn’t going to make too much of fuss about this.
“I wonder if it could conjure up something nice for our honeymoon.”
“WHAT?!” Severus jerked up in bed so fast his head nearly collided with Harry’s.
There was that insufferable cheeky smile, albeit tinged with uncertainty. “I think…I’m pretty sure we…just got…married. Didn’t we?”
Now how did Harry arrive at that…?
Oh.
The words. They must have been the completion of the ritual started by their damned Patronuses. In spite of Harry’s crude assessment, they were to all extents and purposes wedded.
Damnation. Damn damn damn damn damn. Married to Harry James Potter. Insane laughter bubbled from Severus and he clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle it.
Wide green eyes darkened with hurt and confusion. “I didn’t think it was that funny,” Harry muttered, picking at the bed sheets.
“No, no, it’s not funny. It’s just…” Sobriety returned and he stared broodingly at Harry, brushing a hand through the tousled hair, now sticking in every direction, courtesy of their most recent bout of lovemaking.
“Just what?”
“Harry, you are the darling of the wizarding world. You could have the fairest witches and wizards bidding for your hand. And now you’re stuck with your lanky, beak-nosed, whey-skinned wreck of a professor. You must be so disappointed.”
“Disappointed? Hell no! You’re so smart and funny in a snarky way and strong, brave and sexy.” Harry’s voice softened as he laid his right hand over Severus’s chest where the heart beat the strongest. “And you’re mine. What else could I want?”
His fingers clenched over Harry’s. What else indeed? They did belong to each other now, linked by a bond so puissant even Voldemort could not have torn it asunder. His very nerves hummed with the power of that knowledge.
As his thumb brushed lightly over the hand in his, Severus frowned faintly. There were odd ridges under his fingertip that didn’t feel like Quidditch calluses. Turning Harry’s hand over, he was surprised to see the faint white outlines on the back of it. Were those words? “Harry, what is this?”
Shame and anger creased Harry’s forehead into harsh wrinkles. He tried jerking his hand away but Severus’s grip tightened. As he brought Harry’s hand close to his eyes, he read the words “I will not tell lies” in raised skin.
Were these a “gift” from the Dark Lord? Horrified, Severus raced through his memories, sifted through those he recalled from his sojourns through Harry’s mind. “Harry, where did these come from?”
Harry looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Umbridge,” he said shortly.
Severus waited but the boy offered no further explanation. “What does she have to do with it?”
Harry shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. “A bunch of detentions in fifth year. I’d been telling about the return of Voldemort. She was there as the Ministry’s mouthpiece and wanted to shut me up. These came from something she called a blood quill.” He jerked his hand out of Severus’s suddenly lax grip. “I don’t want to talk about this now, Severus.”
Fury prickled behind Severus’s eyes, outrage that someone should have hurt his bondmate. “Why didn’t you tell McGonagall? Or Dumbledore?”
“I…she was trying to break me and I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.” An irritated shrug. “Can we not talk about her now, Severus? The thought of her is a real mood-destroyer.”
A new kind of feeling, one he recognized vaguely as shame, rippled through Severus. He had always thought of Harry as an attention-seeking whiner and complainer. But it seemed the young man had borne much in stoical silence. Though he couldn’t understand Harry’s reticence over bodily injuries--Gryffindor nonsense about chivalry, he supposed--he had to respect his decision.
Harry nestled against his side, laying his head on Severus’s shoulder with a sigh and winding his upper arm and leg across his lover. Severus wanted to tell him to rise and get dressed. They both had classes tomorrow and they could not be seen leaving this room together. But the peace of this instance was something he was loath to break. He knew such bucolic moments would be few and far between in the coming days.
The youth gave a yawn so wide he could see the wretch’s tonsils. Before Severus could chide him on his lack of manners, Harry murmured sleepily, “So where are we going on our honeymoon, Severus?”
“There is still the Dark Lord to consider, Harry.”
“We’re not taking him with us.”
The sleepy rejoinder startled him into a bark of laughter. “Cheeky brat.” Severus wound one arm across the warm back while resting his head across the pillow. Knowing that the fire might not be enough to ward off a chill, he drew a blanket over them, binding Harry even tighter to him.
The Gryffindor was a comforting weight nestled against his side, his mouth opening into a soft snore. Severus thought he could get used to this.

TBC
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The Way of the Patronus