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Snape's Curse	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 24342 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Harry Potter fandom, JKR's characters or the books and movies of the series. This is purely fiction and I make NO money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
A/N: Thanks for all the beautiful rates and reviews this time around-- there were several comments that really made my heart sing (and stroked my muse’s ego, which inspired this next bit!)

~~~~~ Occlumency’s Curse (part 7)

“Ah, Headmaster! No!” the normally stoic professor exclaimed in dismay before he could stop the display of emotion. He quickly schooled his features into the stern scowl he always wore and silently berated himself for breaking his cool exterior. “Why, Headmaster?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled maddeningly behind his half-moon spectacles, tickled by the outburst from the man seated before him (that was becoming more and more familiar over the span he’d taken Harry under his wing). “Back to formalities then, Severus?” he chuckled and teased, “Now I know you’re really upset.”

“Whatever gave you the daft idea that I wouldn’t be, Headmaster?” the dour man seethed in a low growl, determined to mask his turmoil under a deceptively calm response to cover his previous slip (and an eerie sense of déjà vu-- but instead of arguing against Albus’ decisions in this instance, he was fighting for spending time with Harry.)

“Potter is treated despicably in that household, Dumbledore! He returns half-starved and downtrodden each year-- not to mention far behind in his studies.”

Albus smiled calculatingly and Severus was afraid that all the arguments he could make had already been thought of and refuted in the scheming man’s head beforehand, yet again. But he had to try to persuade the barmy old codger; he couldn’t bear the thought of him and Harry being apart for so long. Not to mention what his protégé would have to suffer through at the hands of his relatives.

“He is flourishing and thriving here!” (--With me!) “Think of all the things we could accomplish by my extra tutoring, without the distraction of the regular school year!” he passionately pounded his armrest. “I could see to it that he is prepared for the fall term, as well as what he is destined to face beyond his Hogwarts years.”

“Severus,” the old wizard sighed tiredly, for once showing his age, his wrinkled face crumpling. “I don’t do this to upset you or Harry, or make the decision lightly. The simple fact is that there is a very pressing need for him to return to Surrey every year; the blood-ward bonds need to be strengthened annually and can only continue whilst he calls the Dursley’s house his home. You want him protected, do you not?”

“Of course I do!” The Slytherin was scandalized, and then asserted, “I just feel he is safe in the castle as well.” (--And by my side!) “Albus…,” he appealed, hoping the years of friendship would count for something and it didn’t sound as if he were whining, “Are you sure that is your final say?”

“It is,” Dumbledore asserted with absolute finality. Severus was once again reminded that he could never defy his mentor’s wishes. He knew his protests were a lost cause—he had no choice. No matter the hardship to him or Harry, he knew they had to acquiesce. Severus slumped in resignation.

The twinkle in the watery blue eyes was back as Dumbledore regarded the agitated man he thought of as a son. “Is there something else you wish to tell me? Some other reason you are so adamant to have him remain at Hogwarts?”

“Albus,” he hung his head in dejection, comforting himself with the knowledge that their separation would only be two and a half months-- And before he could stop himself, he confessed in a strained whisper between clenched teeth, “I will miss the boy….” (--Terribly.)

The old wizard smiled then, beaming his pride at the freely given admission from the man who had been determined to remain hard and impassive as long as he’d known him.

“Harry is not so much a child anymore, I think,” Dumbledore chided softly, starting to lead the conversation where he wanted it to go. He felt his friend was finally ready to hear and accept his views. “Harry’s witnessed and done things most grown and seasoned wizards could never hope to survive or accomplish….”

Snape gave a thoughtful nod, “Indeed.”

“His physical being may be only nearly sixteen now, but he is far more advanced for his years. His mind is hardly plagued by the callow and frivolous issues that his peers dwell upon.” The Slytherin snorted, amenable to this assessment as Albus steepled his index fingers under his chin, surveying his employee’s reactions with shrewd precision.

“He has an old soul, just as you have, Severus. I find the two of you very well matched. I wish you wouldn’t discount him solely due to the fact he is an adolescent.”

“I do not disregard him any more!” Severus protested with vehemence. “I have not for some time now. He has proved himself extraordinary and he continues to amaze me at every turn.” His eyes taking on a dreamy glaze, he added, “You should see him in combat Albus, he is truly gifted.”

Dumbledore chuckled in agreement and was more than pleased with Severus’ admiration of Harry, but that wasn’t quite the point he wanted to make. “Son, you know I want you to be happy, do you not?”

Severus startled at the odd change of topic. “What?” He grew wary, as he had always believed that was probably never meant to be. “I suppose so.” Severus sensed an elusive, unsettling feeling that Albus was heading into uncomfortable, personal territory. His instincts were not wrong.

“Did you know, as recently as two hundred years ago, witches and wizards were considered adults at the age of fifteen? Often married by sixteen? Nowadays, the age is raised due to the need for extended schooling as the Wizarding world amasses more and more information to teach its youth. But Harry has matured long ago…. Do you see where I’m going with this?

Severus shifted in his seat, squirming slightly. “I believe so…. Are you actually condoning a… a…,” he swallowed hard, “closer…. relationship between us?”

“With Harry’s consent, of course. I have no doubt you two could provide each other with a deep sense of contentment, comfort and joy.”

Severus contemplated that a moment. “Even if my…. Even if he thinks it is something he wants, I am still his professor. Surely there are protocols or codes of conduct about that sort of thing.” Albus inwardly smiled; it pleased him to no end that his pessimistic colleague didn’t refuse the notion outright or insist that he was opposed to it all-together.

“It is for the Headmaster to decide if any impropriety is occurring or objectivity is being breached in the teacher/student roles. I have every confidence in you that you would not play favourites or fail to be discreet,” Dumbledore assured him. “In fact, I could see you possibly being even more insistent that he uphold the highest standards in his schoolwork.”

“That is quite true, Albus,” Severus said as he mulled over that statement. He heaved a weary sigh, “You know me well, old man.” Albus wasn’t sure if he was referring to his strict policies or the idea of engaging with Harry—or both-- but then figured it didn’t really matter. The distinct lack of any denial regarding the possible pursuing of Harry was music to his ears.

Severus pondered his swirling emotions in silence; he’d never considered being with his protégé in a physical way a real possibility until now…. He was always held in check by the fact he thought it was deemed legally or ethically wrong. He could admit, at least in the solitude of his own soul that having his desires fulfilled was incredibly appealing (and he was fairly sure that by what he’d seen in the young man’s fantasies and his penchant for breaking rules—simply perceived or actually true-- it might even become a reality).

“Son, I only wish to let you know my thoughts on the matter. Whether or not you and Harry decide to proceed to become more involved than you are now is entirely up to you two, but,” Dumbledore concluded, “you have my blessing.”

Severus wished he could have called the headmaster out for his persistent nudging and blatant meddling in his love life, but the plain truth of it was he wanted to do exactly what the old coot was suggesting. He was careful to not show any outward appearance of eagerness. It just wouldn’t do for the wizened wizard to catch wind of the extent of his interest; Dumbledore was entirely too happy by Severus’ tacit acceptance as it was and twinkling manically.

As Severus bade his mentor goodnight, the headmaster surprised his Potion Master yet again. “I’m bringing back Horace Slughorn next fall. I’ll need you to teach defense.” Snape was so shaken by this unexpected development, he didn’t even think to ask why—he just walked to the door in a daze.

“Severus?” Albus called after him, “Just promise me you’ll consider what I said about Harry.” The Slytherin just gave a single, mute nod. The echoing voice floated after him as he descended the stairs. “It could be wonderful, you know….”

****

The last evening of school before summer found Harry wandering the deserted halls of Hogwarts, foregoing the raucous common room celebration for some peace and quiet. He just couldn’t join in the light-heartedness and fun everyone was having around him, not when he was so miserable and moping.

He was dreading going to the Dursley’s as usual-- but now, leaving Snape behind compounded that apprehension. Harry looked for the professor he fancied on the Marauder’s Map, but couldn’t locate him. Had he already left the castle? Where did he spend his holidays anyway? He realized there was so much more he wanted to know about the secretive man.

He was torn between wanting to see Snape and struggling with his embarrassment over their last interaction. Harry had been saved the humiliation of any confrontation since the past week had been full of O.W.L examinations, but he felt saddened he would not catch one last encounter before his world turned bleak once again.

Blindly he traveled, lost in depressed thought, but by some subconscious internal compass he arrived in the dungeons. He looked up in surprise, and then decided he’d go into Salazar’s rooms; he’d take one more look and maybe spend some time in the refuge where he felt closest to Snape until he had to slink back to the tower and await his Dursley-doomed fate.

Upon entering, he noted there was a fire going in the hearth and moved towards it. What he found when he walked around the furniture was a shock, to say the least:

His normally buttoned-up, stiffly starched and regally rigid Potion Master was limply slumped on the floor with his back resting on the seat of the couch-- his white under-tunic was opened to halfway down his chest and his bare feet were stretched before him to be warmed by the flames. A crystal decanter sat next to his sprawled thigh and a partially filled glass in his lax hand.

“Sir?” Harry asked hesitantly, unsure if he should approach or leave him be. He thought Snape looked confused or unwell as he blinked blearily up at his student for several long seconds, as if he didn’t believe Harry was really there. Harry was rather unnerved by the normally unflappable man’s disheveled state and lack of terse demeanor. “Sir?” he tried again, “Are you celebrating or drowning your sorrows?”

“Both,” came the surprisingly steady reply, considering how unraveled he appeared. “Harry….” (the younger wizard visibly jumped at hearing his given name from Snape for the first time ever) “Come and have a drink with me.” He was rendered speechless at the intimate address and most unexpected offer. He wordlessly sat down on the patted spot indicated beside his mentor.

Conjuring a second cup while the balking teen began stammering about underage drinking, Severus raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Of all the school rules you have broken, of all things, this is what causes you to heed the law?” he scoffed in amusement and uttered a faint ‘humph-humph’ reminiscent of laughter. “Do you mean to tell me that all you brave and foolhardy Gryffindors are not imbibing up in your common room at this very minute?”

“Well, yes…. No…. I…. thank you, Sir,” he stuttered as he accepted the glass. The amber liquid smelled strong and he didn’t recognize the scent. And oh dear lord, the big gulp he took burned his throat! With eyes watering, he wheezed, “Pah!!!! What is this, Sir?”

Snape chuckled, “Scotch. It is not meant to be guzzled.” His black eyes glittered, thoroughly entertained by his protégé. He turned serious the next moment. “Will you call me Severus? At least for tonight?”

If Harry thought he was thrown by Snape’s use of his first name, the request for him to use the Potion Master’s had him completely flabbergasted. “S-Sir?” he took another big swig of his drink in his rattled state and spluttered in utter un-refinement once again.

“Severus,” the somewhat inebriated man emphasized, “unless you do not care to.” He turned his face away, suddenly timid at his brash assumption; it wasn’t often he extended any openness to others and felt incredibly vulnerable.

“Severus…. Sssseverussss…,” the young Gryffindor tested the alien syllables out on his tongue with a hint of a hiss, starting to feel lazy and floaty from the Scotch on top of the two Butterbeers he’d had at the after-exam party.

“I like it. It suits you. I also like you calling me ‘Harry’,” he admitted shyly and the older wizard found it quite endearing. He also found it very exciting to hear the sound of his name slipping from The-Boy-Who-Lived’s luscious lips, the swishing sibilance causing his cock to wake up and show some interest. He watched with fondness as his student was able to take a measured sip of his drink, despite his anxiousness.

Harry took off his shoes and socks and stretched his feet towards the fire, mimicking his mentor’s relaxed pose. “So, Sir-everus…,” he caught himself out of his long-practiced habit, “What sorrow is it that you are drowning?” (Please, please let it be me having to leave you for the holiday!)

Snape let out a prolonged, suffering sigh. “I failed you.”

“What? No! I learned to Occlude. And you taught me all sorts of useful fighting stuff. You didn’t fail me at all!”

“No,” he started slowly, touched by the faith his favourite student showed in him but relayed with flat affect, “I was unable to persuade Albus to let you stay at Hogwarts this summer…. I tried to argue our case, but he is, regrettably, unyielding. I know you do not like it-- and you have every reason not to-- but we are forced to have you to return to your…. ‘family’…. and call it home for the blood-wards to work.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to be surprised at first-- Snape asking on his behalf, including himself by the use of ‘we’ and ‘our’ in his yearly plight, or finally learning the real reason he had to continue to go deal with his relatives now that he had a place in the Wizarding world. His heart swelled at any and all of these reasons (he only hoped his sappy gratitude wasn’t sloppily written all over his face).

“I…. thank you! Thank you, Sir! I mean, ‘Severus’! That means so much to me, that you would do that!” he blurted out in a flustered flutter, leaping to his knees beside the Potion Master and looking down upon the deep-etched lined face he’d come to admire. He was relieved he had been able to stop himself from throwing his arms around him—the ‘horny hug’ incident was still fresh enough on his humiliated ego to prevent a possible repeat performance.

“So, then,” the awkward teen attempted a suave cover-up to his inexperienced ramblings by sipping his drink and inquiring at the other tidbit that had garnered his attention, “what are you celebrating?”

Severus stared into the fire, flames flickering and reflecting against the unseeing, black onyx gaze and answered, “I got the Defense Against the Dark Arts post for next year.”

Harry clinked his glass against Severus’ and knocked back his drink, toasting the long-awaited victory for his professor. He watched as Severus silently poured him a refill. “But that’s excellent, S-everus!” he took a sip, “Brilliant!” he took another. “Finally we’ll be able to learn all the best stuff then! Special skills, enchantments, advanced drills!”

There arose a sinister smirk and undeniable obscene leer. “I could teach you all sorts of the ‘best stuff’…. enchant you with my own advances and special skills in drilling you….” the Slytherin drawled suggestively before he could censor himself and winced when he heard his companion’s breath hitch. (Good lord, I sound like some randy old bugger propositioning a young tart in the Hog’s Head! How much Scotch have I had?)

“I am sorry if that offended you, my drink-addled mind has got away with me…. It tends to sink into dark and dirty places at times.” He proceeded to take another deep draught from his tumbler.

“No! Don’t apologize!” Harry pleaded, coasting on liquid courage and churning with Gryffindor daring. He gently trailed his fingers up and down his teacher’s bicep in what he hoped was a tantalizing manner. His emerald orbs fell on those inaccessible lips that haunted his dreams (His slack jaw and breathy tone didn’t go unnoticed by Severus). Harry hurried to explain, “You already have me ‘enchanted’. And I want to learn all sorts of ‘special skills’ from you…..”

“Like what?” the older wizard taunted in an indecent sultry slur, (again, mentally cursing his liquor-loosened tongue) but he was too curious at what Harry’s response would be; he just had to goad him into continuing the conversation. Snape shifted his hips, adjusting his growing erection as his lecherous thoughts were running away with him.

He took stock of the fact he had the object of his fancy hovering over him, on his way to becoming reduced in his inhibitions from the strong libations he was plying him with. That innocence and naïveté intoxicated him far beyond any distilled spirit. Titillated by his student’s uncertainty and clumsy (yet adorable and most welcome) attempt at seduction, he purred, “What is it you wish me to teach you?”

Harry’s countenance became more intense and, emboldened by the alcohol, he moved to straddle one of his legs. “You know…,” his voice became faint, “S-sexy stuff….”

Harry hesitantly brought his hands to rest upon Severus’ chest, his thumbs brushing beside the fabric on bare skin, taking in the sparse hairs gathered in between the nipples that were still hidden under his perspiring palms, hoping against all hope that he could continue and tell the man he’d been aching for that he wanted him—and not be hexed into oblivion (or worse, laughed at) with the liberties he was taking. “You’ve seen in my imagination. I want all that you can show me…. I mean, if you want.”

“I do.” This evening was all so surreal that Severus answered completely open and honestly, not even realizing at first that normally he would protest, at least a little initially. (Damn Gryffindors must be rubbing off on me!) But he needed his protégé to be certain, “Potter? Are you sure?”

Harry stiffened. “I’m sure I want you to say my name. And I’m sure I want to try to make you feel as good as you make me feel.” Without an immediate rejection, he dared rock his pelvis, his hardened member rutting against the thigh under him.

(Good lord, now he really IS rubbing off on me—Literally!) Snape just sat there and swallowed, fingers itching to grab the young man’s flesh and devour him whole; it was taking all his self-restraint not to just throw the succulent imp down and ravage him on the floor. When Severus finally found his voice, he rasped out a whisper, “I do not want to take advantage of you. I have desired this for so long that I may not be able to stop once I begin….”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Harry whimpered, speeding up his thrusts. (I want you to start, you infuriatingly sexy man!)

Severus tentatively took hold of his hips and indulged himself a few seconds to savor this profound, pivotal moment unfolding between them, then with sheer strength of will, stilled his student’s motions. Frustrated and impatient, Harry gripped one of Snape’s wrists and placed his hand over the bulge in his jeans.

Severus gave a choked chuckle. “While I admire your enthusiasm, I want you bare this time.”

“Bloody hell!” the Gryffindor cringed and blushed. “I’m so embarrassed by that!”

“Please do not be,” Severus urged. “Dormitory life tends to train one to be quick. Besides, I was flattered you became so stimulated in my presence—I confess, I did not know what had happened at the time. I was battling my own arousal.” Harry quickly looked up with hope shining in his wide green eyes, checking to see if the man was serious.

Severus pinned him with the sensual severity of his gaze. “I only surmised as much after you left, when I noticed the wet patch on my trousers.” Harry was still red in the face at his faux pas, but hanging on every word, entranced by his teacher talking about such things. Severus leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over Harry’s flushed skin and rumbled in a rich vibrato, “I sucked your semen out of the cloth as I found my own release.”

Harry had never been more turned on in his life! His hips bucked involuntarily. Snape smiled at his excitement but pushed him away. “I meant it; I would like you to be undressed when your orgasm takes you this time.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Harry’s heart thudded in his nervousness none-the-less and removed his glasses with a shaky hand. He hesitantly pulled his t-shirt over his head, ruffling his hopelessly mussed hair further, giving him a delightful ‘just shagged’ look. Severus’ breathing grew deeper as the toned chest and arms were revealed and Harry rose to his feet, fingers fumbling with his fly.

Once his jeans were removed he stood, beautifully backlit by the fire and radiant in all his natural glory; Snape licked his lips and appraised his prize under heavily lidded eyes.

Severus didn’t know where to begin—he wanted to experience everything all at once. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of the naked, raven-haired Adonis that proved his dreams were about to become a reality. With a sumptuous snarl, he flew to his knees and began worshiping the youthful perfection before him with trembling touches, his hands roaming and mapping out every contour with reverent caresses. His mouth soon followed suit, trailing after the path of his fingers.

Harry’s whole body jerked when he felt a wet suckling heat on his hard-pebbled nipples and the first contact of someone else’s hand on his member with another cupping his balls; he marveled at the way the hot, panting exhalations near his groin made his cock jump.

He wasn’t aware he’d lapsed into whining desperately in Parseltongue, but Severus was-- and it spurred him into action.

Harry knew wanted more, but he wasn’t exactly sure of what-- Until Snape licked a stripe up the underside of his length and took the tip of his swollen penis in his mouth. “Oh!” he exclaimed in shock and fell forward, catching himself by latching onto the man’s shoulders. This is what he’d always wanted!

He suddenly had a flashback to his first wet dream, with his teacher kneeling before him, giving him such unnamed pleasure-- His mind hadn’t known, but his body certainly had!

With strong hands kneading his ass-cheeks, Severus proceeded to slide the engorged shaft all the way to the back of his throat. Harry threw back his head and howled as a blinding white light overcame him; he felt his soul and the contents of his testicles being forcibly sucked out of his sac.

Harry slumped over feeling like he’d been hit with a Jelly-legs Jinx. Snape’s arms around his thighs and waist were the only thing keeping him upright. Severus gently led the slightly spasming teen to the sofa to lie down. “That was…. I’m sorry, Si—everus. I was too fast again.”

“No matter,” the Slytherin replied nonchalantly licking his lips and savoring the taste. “We had to get the first one out of the way.” At Harry’s quizzical expression he explained, “Your youth will accommodate your needs. I hardly think there is only one climax in you. And I plan to draw each and every last orgasm you have out of you before you leave.”

Harry shuddered at that promise as Severus manipulated the pliant body under him. He hooked one of his heels over the back of the couch and pushed his other thigh up to his chest, effectively parting the pert buttocks before him.

Snape aimed his wand between his legs and muttered a spell. Harry yelped and had a horrified moment of panic as he felt he might have to call everything off and dash to the loo, but then the sensation shifted to an empty, ready-and-waiting hunger in his rectum. Severus chuckled at the play of emotions that flickered across his young lover’s face, “Only a cleaning charm….” He thought Harry’s look of relief was rather adorable.

“I must ask, P-Harry, have you ever had anything inside you?” He just had to know.

Harry stammered, “J-just my finger….”

The pristine little pucker twitched and winked under his heated gaze and he bit back a groan—it was too perfect! Gently, he pressed his lips to it and was rewarded by another convulsive pulse outward in a precious, reciprocating ‘kiss’.

Slowly, teasingly, the older wizard swiped his tongue across the wrinkled muscle. “Mmmm,” he moaned in approval and Harry squeaked—he’d never, ever conceived of such an act! It was wonderful! It was warm and wet and went straight to his sated penis, causing it to stir once more. Every rumbling hum of Severus’ throat sent vibrations through his lips and directly to each nerve of his body until he was writhing in ecstasy.

With his nose pleasantly prodding Harry’s perineum, enhancing every twinge of delight (the one advantageous thing an over-size conk was good for!), Severus hardened his tongue into a slick point and poked, breaching the untried entrance. Harry keened and gasped, head thrashing on the velvet cushions. Snape slid in deeper, relishing every wanton noise of wonder he was wrenching from his lover.

Severus was so focused on his task and his own pleasure from rimming such a sweet hole that it came as a surprise when the ring of Harry’s sphincter clamped down around his tongue and the thighs he was stroking quivered. He raised his gaze just in time to watch the boy’s scrotum contract and hurl ejaculate over his taut abdomen; his back arched and fists clutching the couch, Harry had come again, cock completely untouched!

Pulse racing and eyes closed, Harry hissed, “Sssssssheyeshefeyyyy….”

“Indeed,” Snape gave a weak chortle as the snake language sped another surge to his aching member. “Although I have no idea what you said, your tone says it all.”

Severus drank in the libertine tableau before him-- the supple skin shimmering with a sheen of sweat, the semen puddling in the teen’s navel and sliding down his sides, the perked nipples rising and falling with each laboured breath—he was exquisite. He felt hot all over and began removing his own constricting clothes.

When his hard and heavy member sprung free, by some innate instinct Harry’s eyes opened, then widened in disbelief when he caught sight of what the Potion Master was packing. The man was huge! He gulped noisily and Snape smirked at his reaction, and asked, “Ready for the next round?”

“I want everything…. Pro-Sev-rus.” Harry tried to get up to reach out and touch him but flopped lifelessly back down. Severus scooped up the satiated boy and took him over to the bed. Harry felt a little silly being carried like a child, but it was pretty nice too, to be enveloped in such a possessive embrace. He bounced a couple times after he was dropped on the mattress and his legs fell bonelessly apart.

His heart sped up with desire as he watched the lithe grace of Severus stalking up on all fours, coming to rest between his spread thighs.

“Trust me to prepare you as thoroughly as you need?” Snape rasped, his voice husky with need and wand drawn. Harry could only nod, wondering what he meant and what was going to happen next. Whatever it was, he wasn’t expecting to feel the blunt wooden tip of Snape’s wand swipe through the cooling jizz on his stomach and then sneak an inch into his butthole (and definitely not the slick, tingling wetness seeping into his body. And for sure not the odd stretching feeling he felt pulling at his inner walls!)

“I must have you, Harry…. I cannot wait any longer,” Severus moaned and moved to position the head of his leaking cock against the virgin pucker. It took all his self-restraint to feed his length in slowly. He scanned Harry’s face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none; he thanked any and all deities he was born a wizard-- perhaps another time he would leisurely prepare Harry manually, but right now he was grateful to be blessed with superior spells.

In one, long smooth slide of penetration into that tight heat, he sheathed himself fully. He had to still for several long seconds, trying not to blow his load.

He wasn’t going to last. He knew it. This moment was such a long time in the making that it was inevitable and the fact that he finally had his Potter was monumental and overwhelming. He pulled out a bit, then pushed back in, angling upwards in an attempt to locate Harry’s prostate as soon as possible. After a couple more stabs in the dark, he found it, judging from the gasp and groan from his partner.

Concentrating on that direction, he pummeled away and picked up Harry’s renewed hard-on to pump it in time with his thrusts. From the way his lover was writhing and moaning he could tell he was close. He loved that every reaction was neither forced nor feigned—trust a novice, a Gryffindor that wore his heart on his sleeve, to hold nothing back and never consider faking affect!

A couple more strokes he heard the most delicious strangled cry, felt fluid dribble down his knuckles and the impossibly tight heat surrounding his cock squeezed rhythmically, milking every last drop of the most intense orgasm he’d ever had out of him.

“Harry!” his shout was hoarse, and then he murmured in affectionate, satisfied amazement as his vision fell into blackness, “Harry….”

****

Severus awoke to an erection dry-humping his leg. The memory of the previous night came flooding back and caused his own groin start to stir. Casting a ‘Tempus’, he sighed—the thestral-pulled carriages would be disembarking for the station soon. They didn’t have much time left.

Gently shaking the shoulder of the arm that was hugging around his middle, Severus roused Harry. Green eyes met his and his young Gryffindor lover grinned, “Hi.”

“Good morning,” Severus smiled and stretched. “I am afraid we have overslept. You are going to have to leave.”

“Noooooo,” Harry protested. “Just a few more minutes? Please?” he begged, melting the resolve of the normally stern man, and beaming when he received a relenting nod.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Good lord, I am going soft on you already!” he griped aloud.

Coyly but suddenly cheeky, Harry quipped softly, “I hope you never go soft on me….” And reached down to pet and kiss the stiff cock he’d felt nudge his forearm earlier. His hesitant and inexperienced touches and licks had Snape fired up far more than he thought should be possible—it was just like all his fantasies, except much, much better! “I don’t want this to be over….” Harry whispered in a forlorn way.

Hopeful there would be repeats of their activities in the future, Severus wanted to confirm and asked, “So, no regrets?”

“No, of course not! I got everything I ever wanted,” Harry assured him, but then with a slight frown, added, “Well, I regret one thing.” Snape raised a questioning eyebrow. “I regret we can’t do it again right now.” Severus barely restrained himself from swatting the little imp on the behind for giving him a jolt of worry.

“There may be time….” Severus murmured, doing some fast tabulations of mental math. “If we are quick….”

Harry blushed. “I don’t think I can. I’m a bit sore,” he reticently admitted.

Snape blanched, ashamed at hurting his lover and picked up his wand. “Let me heal you, then.”

Harry grabbed his wrist to stop him, “No! I mean, I don’t want you to.” He bashfully averted his eyes. “I-I want to keep a reminder of last night for as long as I can…. So I know it wasn’t just a dream.”

Severus regarded him for several long seconds, taking in the stunning nude form wrapped around him. “Perhaps,” he said contemplatively, “I wish for a memento as well….” He silently willed his newly initiated Gryffindor to infer his meaning.

Harry pulled away in shock, “You mean I…. you…. Really?” He stayed frozen in place as his Potion Master got up and knelt, holding onto the headboard and gaped as he pointed his wand at his own asshole.

Severus looked over his shoulder, “You will have to come a bit closer….” He waggled his hips enticingly and spread his legs wide to adjust for the differences in their heights. “Do not worry about hurting me, simply do what comes naturally to you.”

Astonished with the turn of events, Harry tenderly gripped Snape’s waist with one hand and then put his other on his throbbing boner to guide it towards the waiting anus. As the glans disappeared inside he gasped—the sensation was beyond incredible! He was barely able to catch his breath!

Severus threw his head back and bore down with his rectal muscles, swallowing more of Harry’s shaft. He didn’t realize until that moment that he’d really missed being penetrated. He pushed back and impaled more of the length invading him, his moans intermingling with his lover’s.

He rolled his pelvis, grinding against Harry’s pistoning prick to find his own prostate and fisted his own in a furious pace. (There would be time to hone Harry’s prowess, but for now, he just reveled in the feeling of having a living, most pleasurable and easily manageable-sized ‘toy’ in his ass to play with as he wished—one that was attached to the most scrumptious companion he could ever imagine.)

It didn’t take long until they collapsed in a panting pile of entwined flesh.

When Severus could find his voice again he asked if he could put a Monitoring Charm on Harry. At his student’s clueless expression he explained he wanted to be able to access his physical states and make sure he was doing all right while they were apart for the summer. At Harry’s acceptance, he began the spell. Tendrils of magic spider webbed across his sensitized skin and it felt like feathers inside and out. The teen began to giggle.

“Potter! This liaison cannot continue if you are to be tittering like some silly schoolgirl,” Snape admonished.

“It tickles!” the young man declared. “And call me Harry. We’re still alone.” Severus continued casting, causing a rush of interest in his delectable partner’s recently spent crotch.

“Well, well, Harry. That is certainly not girly,” the Slytherin remarked as he fondled the growing hardness, twiddling the tip with a teasing finger and eliciting a very deep masculine groan. “Ah, that is better-- much more manly.”

After they grudgingly dressed in yesterday’s rumpled clothes and hovered by the door for their farewell, Severus surprised them both and lowered his lips to Harry’s for their first kiss; it quickly progressed to nibbles and nips and dancing tongues. (Never let it be said that Severus Tobias Snape was not a consummate lover!)

Reluctantly, they broke apart and silently went their separate ways. Neither of them wanted to break the magic of the moment with mere words.

****

The Potion Master watched from the shadows in the Entrance Hall, spying on Potter and his friends. Miss Granger was clearly irritated and after a few scolding words, stomped on ahead in a terrific scowl. Ron Weasley gave him a double thumbs-up behind her back and then was pulling on his best mate’s sleeve, pestering him about something. Harry just continued to shake his head ‘no’ while wearing a goofy grin.

It was obvious-- even from a distance and not hearing the actual conversation-- that Harry’s friends were interrogating him about where he spent the night; Severus inwardly applauded his discretion.

The further the trio got to the road, the heavier Harry’s feet trudged with each step. Just before he disappeared into their carriage after his friends, the recently de-flowered Gryffindor turned back towards the castle, scanning, searching for something. Severus stepped out into the grand double doors of the castle. He gave a curt nod and received a subtle wave in return.

As the wheels started rolling to Hogsmeade, Severus felt the keen sting of their separation, (compounded by two as he could sense Harry’s physical state through the Monitoring Charm). The ache of his lover’s absence settled over him and the weight of loneliness squeezed his chest.

For the first time since he was a student, he’d never looked forward to the first of September more.

~~~~

A/N: Well, now, there’s just the Epilogue left, which is mostly written (just need to polish the rough edges). I thought of waiting to post the two together, but got a little too…. eager…. after finishing this climaxing chapter of smut…. : ) Ha-ha, hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing (and imagining) it! And hope you come back for the end…. I promise, it’s all cute pillow-talk and hot sex…. :)
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Snape's Curse