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I Will Carry You	By : SailorSol Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 18732 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I Will Carry You
- 1
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything you recognize from HP. Song lyrics recorded by Clay Aiken I don't own anything but the idea.

I Will Carry You

Yeah I know it hurts,

Yeah I know you're scared

Walking down the road that leads to who knows where.

Don't you hang your head

Don't you give up yet

When courage starts to disappear I will be right here.

Severus Snape was startled out of his contemplation of the night sky by the sound of running feet on the steps of the Astronomy Tower. The steps were accompanied by broken sobbing, and two voices shouting.

Well accustomed to the histrionics that was common in adolescent emotions, he kept himself completely still, waiting for the latest chapter in the melodrama to play itself out.

�Harry, wait!� the voice of Hermione Granger was distinctive, and it had a tone of desperation that Snape found chilling. He rose from his seat on the railing just as Harry Potter reached the top of the tower and ran without pausing towards the railing.

Without thinking, Snape reached out and wrapped his arms around Harry just before he succeeded in throwing himself over the railing and onto the grounds below.

For a moment, Harry fought the arms that imprisoned him, hysterical sobs wracking his body. Then, he collapsed abruptly against his teacher, still sobbing and convulsing as if all hope were gone from his life.

Snape looked up to gaze at the terrified faces of Ron and Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger.

�Will someone please explain this fiasco?� he asked calmly. Inside, he was in turmoil. Harry Potter was one of the most stable students at Hogwarts. For something to reduce him to a suicidal state must be something grave indeed. A small part of his mind was noticing how the young man clung to him, the scent of herb soap that rose from his skin and hair, and the hard muscles under his pajamas. He firmly told that part of his mind to shut up.

�We can�t, Professor,� Hermione spoke first, as usual. �We know he�s been having nightmares ever since what happened at the Ministry, but he�s never been like this.�

�Not . . . asleep,� the young man in Snape�s arms sobbed out, pushing himself into a mostly upright position. �Not . . . dreaming.�

�Then what is it, Harry?� Ron asked.

�Him,� Harry gasped out, and then collapsed in the arms of the one man his father had hated more than any other.

�We can take him back to Gryffindor, Professor,� Hermione finally said into the silence that followed.

�That won�t be necessary, Miss Granger,� Snape said, shifting his arms to pick Harry up. Even semi-conscious, Harry turned his face in until his nose was buried in Snape�s robes. He inhaled deeply, and seemed to calm somewhat.

�I will be taking Mr. Potter to the hospital wing,� he said. �It would seem that he needs specific care. Now all three of you get back to Gryffindor tower before I decide to take points and assign detention.�

�Not until we know Harry�s going to be all right,� Ron said, a stubborn look on his face.

�Your loyalty is commendable, Mr. Weasley, if a bit misplaced at the moment,� Snape said, remembering his own school days and the friends he could depend on. �I have no intentions of harming Mr. Potter.�

�May we come with you, Professor?� Ginny Weasley asked, the concern on her face warring with an almost Slytherin coldness. He found that the concept quite enchanted him.

�Yes, Ms. Weasley, you may come, so long as you are quiet,� he said, nodding to Ron and Hermione to indicate that the permission included them as well.

Harry relaxed in Snape�s arms, too weak to protest being carried, and too relieved to be near someone he could trust, and someone who would not judge him for the voice running through his head.

�It's all your fault,� Voldemort�s voice kept saying, while Sirius� death replayed in his head in an endless loop. �If you had stayed at school like a good little pawn, he would still be alive. If you had done as you were told, your friends would not have been hurt. This is all your fault, you arrogant little boy. You think only you can save everyone. Because of that, your godfather is dead because he was trying to save you. It is all your fault.�

He turned towards Snape, meaning to try to tell him, and found the scent of him intoxicating. He did not stop to analyze it, but it seemed to do something that made the constantly repeating voice fade, and the visions fade somewhat. He relaxed into it, allowing the scent to overpower everything else except the insistent beating of his heart.

They followed him silently to the Hospital Wing, where Ron jumped to open the doors, and Hermione went to Madame Pomfrey�s quarters to rouse her. Snape found himself reevaluating the Gryffindor Dream Team. They had always seemed to be typical show-off Gryffindors, but he was seeing a side of them that he never had. The genuine distress in their faces and the determination with which they had stood up to him reminded him of the best traits of Gryffindor house, and not of the man whose son he held in his arms.

When Madame Pomfrey came in, she gestured for him to put Harry on the closest bed. He complied, but when he would have stepped away, the half-conscious youth cried out and grabbed at his hand as if it were a lifeline.

�Please don�t go!� he pleaded, emerald eyes glazed over. Snape summoned a chair to him, and sat next to the bed, clasping Harry�s hand with his own. Something in the boy�s desperation had stirred a protectiveness in him he thought long dead.

Harry felt himself lowered onto a bed, and then the scent began to leave him. The voice became louder, and the visions became clearer. Without thinking, Harry grabbed for the nearest body part, a hand, and clung to it, begging its owner not to go. If the person responsible for that scent left, the visions and the voice would overpower him. The only way to silence them was death.

After thoroughly examining Harry, Madame Pomfrey made him swallow several potions, then stood back and waited for them to take effect.

Gradually, Harry�s now-silent sobbing quieted, his breathing slowed, and then he went completely limp, even releasing Snape�s hand.

�That�ll keep him out for several hours,� she said. �I�ll need more of the Dreamless Sleep potion from you, Professor. Mr. Potter�s going to need it for a while.�

�Very well, Poppy,� he said, looking down at Harry with an unfamiliar sense of concern. �I will start them as soon as I have reported to the Headmaster.�

�That is unnecessary, Severus,� a new voice spoke up. All of them turned to see Dumbledore standing just inside the doors to the hospital wing. �I do, however, wish to impose on you. I think that Harry will be better off in the guest rooms near your quarters. The extra shielding afforded by being underground should keep Voldemort at bay. Also, he seems to trust you, and both you and your Slytherins are well equipped to restrain him should he become violent again. Also, I believe you should make another attempt to teach him Occlumency. I believe he will be a bit more cooperative than he was before.�

�Professor Dumbledore, we can take care of him!� Ron Weasley impulsively jumped into a conversation he had no place in. �Harry doesn�t need to be in the dungeons!�

�That is for the Headmaster to decide, Mr. Weasley,� Professor McConnagall stepped into the Hospital Wing and looked pointedly at Ron. �I won�t take points for impertinence this time, but your being a Prefect does not mean you can address the staff in any way that you want.�

�I just ... � Ron let his voice trail off, positive that anything he said would only make matters worse.

�Your concern for Mr. Potter is commendable,� McConnagall said. �However, he is in the best of hands, and if Professor Snape is the best equipped to help him, I would suggest that you not fight it.�

�Yes, Professor,� Ron said, glancing resentfully at Snape. Hermione noticed the look and elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

�He�ll be awake in six to eight hours,� Madame Pomfrey said. �You should be able to move him then,�

Dumbledore thanked her, and then gestured for the rest of them to leave with him. He watched while the other three Gryffindors were herded off by their head of house, then he turned to Snape, his eyes twinkling.

�Do not worry, Severus,� he said. �I think Harry is in the best of hands. More than anyone, you can understand self-destructive behavior.�

�Yes, I can,� Snape replied. �The question is, what is it that Mr. Potter saw to make him self-destructive, and why should he trust my opinions on the subject?�

�He will trust you, Severus,� Dumbledore said, smiling. �Of that I have no doubts.� He turned away from the Potions Master and walked away. Snape could swear he heard chuckling as the old man left him.

Four hours later, down in his private laboratory in the dungeons, Snape was carefully adding the last ingredient to the Dreamless Sleep Potion when his fire suddenly turned green and Madame Pomfrey�s head appeared in the flames.

�Severus, I need you here now!� she said urgently. Cursing, Snape took the potion off of the fire and stepped into the green flames and out into the Hospital Wing. What he saw both galvanized him into action and unaccountably made him want to cry in pain and dismay.

Apparently still under the influence of the Dreamless Sleep potion, Harry was clawing at the side of the bed where Snape had been, crying in desperation as his hand met nothing but cloth and metal. Snape hurried to his side and allowed his hand to contact Harry�s.

The response was immediate, dramatic, and the last thing that anyone expected.

Harry�s eyes snapped open, he focused on Snape, and then he wrapped his arms around him, sobbing, and repeating �Thank God,� over and over.

Cautiously, and a bit awkwardly, Snape put his arms around the weeping form of the Boy-Who-Lived, waiting for him to calm down.

Again a part of his mind noticed the feel of Harry�s muscles under his pajamas, the scent of herbs and soap that clung to him, now mingled with sweat, which gave him an aroma that was uniquely Harry. Again, he firmly told that part of his mind to sod off.

Still, there was something appealing about Harry�s nestling weight, and the feeling of arms around him, something he had not felt in many years.

Almost unconsciously, he began to stroke Harry�s hair, trying to soothe him, and after a while, Harry quieted down.

When Harry finally finished crying, he suddenly noticed several things. He was clinging like a limpet to Professor Snape. Snape had his arms around him, and was stroking his hair gently, almost as if he were soothing a frightened animal. Snape�s robes smelled of herbs, incense, aftershave (something spicy and woodsy at the same time), and of pipe smoke. It was quite possibly the most appealing combination of odors that Harry had ever smelled in his life. He could hear Snape�s heartbeat in his chest, a fast rhythm that indicated stress or fear. He could feel the muscles of Snape�s back bunch under his hands. He fought the sudden, illogical impulse to stroke those muscles. He told his hormones to take a long walk off of a short pier.

�Are you coherent now, Mr. Potter?� Snape�s voice intruded into Harry�s reverie. He nodded against Snape�s chest, and then pulled himself away with surprising reluctance. What was wrong with him? Severus Snape hated him because of his father, and the feeling was mutual.

Wasn�t it?

�Yes, thank you sir,� he whispered.

�What did the Dark Lord say to you to reduce you to this state, Mr. Potter,� Snape asked softly. Harry sighed, and then shook his head.

�I can�t talk about it,� he said firmly.

�Rest assured, Mr. Potter, your secrets are safe with me,� Snape said. �If the Dark Lord is targeting you, there is help available.�

�No,� Harry said. �I have to deal with this myself.�

�Very well,� Snape said, releasing him. �I will tell you, though, that the Headmaster believes that I can help you. He also believes that I should attempt to teach you Occlumency again.�

�Dumbledore!� Harry�s voice was full of venom and bitterness. �Dumbledore doesn�t know everything!�

�I am well aware of that, Mr. Potter,� Snape replied. �Perhaps you would like to discuss this somewhere else.�

�There isn�t anywhere he won�t find out,� Harry said. �The portraits tell him everything.�

�Not the portraits of Salazar Slytherin,� Snape said. �I assure you, Salazar tells Dumbledore very little. His is the only portrait that hangs in Slytherin House, in my quarters, or in the guest quarters in the dungeons that you will be occupying for a while.�

�Why?� Harry asked. �So his weapon against Voldemort won�t self-destruct?�

�Why do you want to do what the Dark Lord wants?� Snape countered. Harry looked at him sharply.

�If you destroy yourself, Mr. Potter,� Snape said. �Not only will you be abandoning your friends, you will be playing directly into his hands.�

�Can we talk about this someplace else?� Harry asked. Snape nodded and rose to his feet. Harry saw a fleeting look of disappointment cross his features, but didn�t say anything. He must have imagined it, right? He got to his feet and followed his teacher out of the hospital wing and down into the dungeons.

Snape�s mind was in turmoil the entire time that he led Harry down to the dungeons. (Oh, so it�s Harry now, is it Severus? Shut up, Severus, you are an idiot sometimes!) He had loathed and feared James Potter since he started school, and had disliked the boy from the first time he saw him, simply for being James Potter�s son. He had been vocal about the special treatment Harry received for his antics. He had been allowed to get away with things that would have guaranteed the expulsion of any other student. Granger and Weasley rode Harry�s robes to forgiveness, and Gryffindor House benefited from Dumbledore�s blatant favoritism. The situation angered and frustrated him, but he could see now that none of it was anything that Harry had asked for.

He kept his silence until he led the way into his private quarters. He gestured for Harry to take a seat and busied himself with pouring a snifter of Napoleon Brandy. After a moment, he poured one for Harry as well.

�This might help,� he said, handing it to him. �The best way is to inhale as you swirl the snifter and then sip and let the liquid roll around your mouth.� He carefully demonstrated, swirling the snifter in his long-fingered hands, inhaling deeply of the vapors that were released, and then sipping. He raised his eyes to find Harry staring at him, slackjawed, with an unexpected look lurking in his eyes.

Harry sat carefully in a comfortable chair that did not show the constant signs of wear that the chair directly across from it did. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset Severus. (So, it�s Severus, huh? Shut up, you prat!) He watched as Snape poured one snifter of brandy, then another. As he took the glass he was handed and listened to Snape�s instructions, it suddenly occurred to him that the quality of the Potions Master�s voice could be spellbinding under the right conditions. For instance, if he were whispering in your ear while making love. . . .

Then there were those long, elegant hands, cupping the snifter with such care and authority at the same time. For the first time in a long time, Harry thought about someone touching him in intimate and pleasurable ways.

For the first time in his life, he saw Snape as an attractive and magnetic man, and not as the domineering Potions Professor.

For the first time, he felt the stirrings of desire.

When he realized that Snape was looking at him, Harry flushed and averted his eyes.

�Sorry, Professor,� he said. �I�ve only seen you in class and at Grimmauld Place. I�ve never seen you relaxing at all.�

�I rarely do, Mr. Potter," Snape said. �In my private quarters, however, I have a tendency to. Do not think that the information will give you an easier time in class.�

�Of course not,� Harry said. �Yours is that hardest subject in school. You have to be hard, or no one will pay any attention in class. Now, I believe you were saying something about me playing into Voldemort�s hands?�

�Yes,� Snape said, sitting back in his chair. �The prophecy cannot be fulfilled if you are not here to fulfill it. If the Dark Lord can provoke you into an action that is dangerous or self-destructive, then he has eliminated the only threat to his existence and rise to power.�

�So that�s why he�s doing it,� Harry murmured, then looked up at Snape.

�He keeps telling me it�s all my fault,� Harry explained. �He knows Sirius was my godfather, and he keeps reminding me that Sirius wouldn�t have been in the Ministry that night if it wasn�t for me.�

�That is not true,� Snape said calmly. �Dumbledore called the Order together when it was reasoned that the only way for the Dark Lord to get the prophecy was to incite you to obtain it, or to retrieve it himself. The Order was there to stop either you or him. Sirius Black would still have been there.�

�I didn�t know that,� Harry said. �I wouldn�t talk to Dumbledore after that night. I still won�t talk to him.�

�Dumbledore is a master manipulator,� Snape acknowledged. �He manipulates everyone for his purposes. The only comfort I have is that he is not the Dark Lord. He is not determined to destroy what he cannot control.� He raised his snifter to Harry and then took a long drink of it.

The two of them spoke at length, each telling the other of their own reasons for self-destructive behavior, and Snape told Harry why he had turned from both the behavior, and Voldemort�s service.

Finally, the brandy was gone, and Harry was pleasantly sleepy. Snape encouraged him to get to his feet, and led him to a door in the sitting room that opened on its own suite of rooms.

�Slytherin�s guest quarters, Mr. Potter,� he said. �I think you will find restful sleep here.�

�Thanks,� Harry mumbled sleepily. �Please, Professor, when we�re alone, call me Harry.� He stumbled into the bedroom and dropped onto the bed. Moments later, he was asleep.

�I wish you pleasant dreams ... Harry,� Snape replied to the sleeping student, then closed the door and sought his own rest.

Snape was roused from a fitful sleep just before dawn by screams so loud and shrill that they carried even through thick wooden doors. He pulled a dressing robe on and ran into the guest suite.

Harry was sitting upright in bed, eyes wide with fear and horror, screaming. Snape shook him to wake him, and then resorted to drastic measures when that failed.

He slapped him.

Harry�s screams stopped abruptly, and he stared at Snape in hurt, then confusion, then dawning understanding.

�It was only a dream,� he said, sagging in relief. He pressed the heel of his hand to his scar and put the other hand over his heart.

�Tell me about it,� Snape said, sitting down on the bed.

�I dreamed that I woke up in the morning,� Harry said. �I got dressed and went to the Great Hall for breakfast. Only, there wasn�t a Hall full of students and teachers. There were bodies everywhere. The Hall was full of Death Eaters. Some of the students were being held off to one side, some of the others were sitting calmly, and Voldemort was in Dumbledore�s seat. He had Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and someone else bound in front of him. He was pointing his wand at the other person. When I walked in, he looked at one of the Death Eaters and said �Kill this one�. That�s when you slapped me.� Again, as he had earlier that endless night, Harry started to cry.

�Who was the other person, whose demise was causing you such distress?� Snape asked, hoping to bring him out of his mood. Harry shook his head, refusing to answer the question.

�I can�t,� he whispered. �He doesn�t know he means anything. I don�t want him hurt. Besides, he wouldn�t believe me.�

�You would be surprised at what people will believe, Harry,� Snape said quietly. Still, Harry shook his head, and then laid down.

�I�m sorry I woke you, Professor,� he said woodenly. �I don�t think I�ll be sleeping much the rest of the night.�

�Very well,� Snape said, rising. For some unknown reason, the rejection hurt him.

�I will see you at breakfast, Mr. Potter,� he said, and then he turned and left the suite, closing the door behind him.

�I�m sorry, Severus,� Harry whispered to the silence around him. �I can�t tell you. He�d kill you without a second thought. I can�t even admit it to myself, even that I want you.� Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, closed his eyes and cried again for what could not be.

Everybody cries,

Everybody bleeds,

No one ever said that life's an easy thing.

That's the beauty of it,

When you lose your way,

Close your eyes and go to sleep and wake up to another day.

Harry rubbed his eyes, and then looked at the Herbology book in front of him again. He had been living in the dungeons of Hogwarts for nearly three weeks, now. He had become accustomed to being near the Slytherins, and they had become accustomed to having him around. He could walk through the doorway of the sitting room and ask questions of Severus on any evening if he had problems with his homework, and sometimes even if he just wanted to talk.

Sometimes, Severus talked to him.

Every day, Harry found more that he had in common with his Potions Master, and every day he found something more to admire in Severus Snape.

His reverie was abruptly interrupted by a thump coming from Snape�s quarters, and then a moan of pain.

Without thinking of possible consequences, Harry grabbed his wand and ran into the Potions Master�s quarters.

In front of the fireplace was a huddled form wearing torn and bloodied black robes. A cracked Death Eater�s mask lay on the hearth where it had fallen. The shoulder-length black hair that Harry occasionally daydreamed about was matted with blood.

Harry knelt down next to Snape and rolled him over carefully. His face was a mass of bruises and small cuts, and one long welt that extended from two small cuts at Snape�s chin to his hairline on one side of his face told Harry who was responsible.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters, most specifically the escaped convict Lucius Malfoy.

Knowing that each moment he paused could cost Snape his life, Harry rose to his feet, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into the fire.

�Professor Dumbledore!� he called out. Dumbledore�s head almost immediately appeared in the fire.

�What is it, Harry?� he asked.

�Professor Snape�s been hurt,� Harry said. �He needs help. Now!�

�We will be right there. Do not move him.� Dumbledore�s head disappeared and the fire became normal. Seconds later, the flames turned green again. Harry turned his wand on the fire, ready to do what he had to protect Snape if Death Eaters were following to finish him off.

Madame Pomfrey stepped out of the fire, and stopped still when she saw Harry�s wand.

�Goodness, Mr. Potter!� she exclaimed. �Get out of my way!� Harry obediently stepped aside, and then watched anxiously as she examined Snape.

Moments after she had appeared, the door to the hallway opened, admitting Dumbledore, Hagrid, McConnagall, and Remus Lupin.

�He�s in bad shape, Albus,� Madame Pomfrey said. �He won�t be up and about for a while. I don�t know what you�re going to do about his classes.�

�That is what Remus is for, Poppy,� Dumbledore said. �He is competent to teach potions until Severus is recovered.�

�Hagrid, move him to his bed,� Madame Pomfrey said, moving away from the stricken Potions Master. �I�ll be able to take care of his injuries, but his system must recover from the insult.�

�He will have the time, Poppy, I promise,� Dumbledore said.

�He�s not going back,� Harry said into the silence that followed. All eyes turned to him, and then Dumbledore nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

�You are quite correct, Harry,� he said. �I will not send him to his death. We will find other ways of obtaining information.�

�Don�t put him in their, either, Hagrid,� Harry said, an unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness stirring in him. He pointed at the open door to the guest quarters. �Put him in there. If they come looking for him, they�ll look in Hospital Wing or his quarters.�

Hagrid hesitated, looking at Dumbledore for guidance.

�Again, Harry is correct,� Dumbledore said. �Hagrid, put him where Harry said. He has been studying strategy and tactics. His evaluation of the Death Eaters actions is most likely to be accurate.�

�Yes, Headmaster,� Hagrid said, carrying Snape�s unconscious form through the doorway and into Harry�s bedroom. Madame Pomfrey followed, her pockets clinking with potions bottles.

�Are you well, Harry?� Dumbledore asked into the silence that followed.

Staring in the direction of the open doorway, Harry nodded.

�I�m fine, sir,� he said. �I�m just worried about Professor Snape.�

�I am please that you managed to overcome your dislike for him,� Dumbledore said. �Severus is a good man, and there is much he could teach you."

�I know that, sir,� Harry said, still staring. �We�ve gotten better acquainted since I moved down here. Ron thinks I�m mental. Hermione spends more time asking him about potions when she�s down here than she does talking to me. Ginny ... Ginny just smiles a little.�

�As well she should, Harry,� Dumbledore said. �Your health has greatly improved since moving down here. Miss Weasley has reason to be pleased.�

�Now his health is what needs to improve.� Harry said, following the others into the guest quarters.

Three days after the beating that nearly cost Snape his life, Harry looked up from his Transfiguration textbook after dinner when he heard a moan.

For the last three days, Snape had lay as if dead, attended three times a day by Madame Pomfrey, and guarded at night by Harry and all day by the best warding spells Harry could find.

Cautiously, Harry padded into the room on stocking feet. He watched Severus for a moment, wondering if he had imagined the sound. Just as he was about to leave, Severus moaned again, his head tossing to one side, then the other.

�No,� he moaned. �No.� He started to shake as if with intense cold, even though the room was warm and there was a warming charm on the blankets that covered him.

Harry moved closer, and then put a gentle hand on Severus� forehead. It felt like he was touching a steaming teakettle. Severus was in a feverish delirium.

Without thinking of the consequences, or proprieties, Harry quickly locked the door and warded it, then stripped to his underwear and climbed into the bed next to Severus.

He slipped his arms around the Potions Master; feeling scabbed over cuts and scrapes under his fingers. He also felt the hardness of muscles, now bunching with the violent shivering that wracked his body. He ran his hands up and down Severus� back, seeking to soothe him from the fever dreams, and make him feel warmer at the same time. He was gentle because he did not want to dislodge any of the scabs that he could feel, or aggravate unseen bruises. He was thorough because he wanted to make sure that Severus felt warmed everywhere.

After what seemed forever, Severus turned toward him and buried his face in Harry�s neck. The action was that of a sick man in a delirium, but it hit nerves that sent pleasurable chills up and down Harry�s spine, and centered in a very strategic spot. He moved his hips away from Severus so that the evidence of his arousal wouldn�t disturb the older wizard. He was having enough delusions, without what feeling an erect penis pressing against him might do. Harry realized that he had no clue which way Severus leaned, in any case. It might cause worse delusions.

Harry�s eyes widened in surprise when Severus started nibbling on his neck. One of Severus� arms slipped around his waist and pulled him closer. The hand slipped further down to cup one buttock.

�Harry,� Severus whispered against his neck. �Safe. Good.� He continued his ministrations on Harry�s neck while his hand slid beneath the cloth of Harry�s underwear to glide across his smooth skin. Harry gasped and shuddered, feeling the callused hands touch him in ways he had only imagined. All the while, Severus continued to nip and nibble on his neck, working his way up towards Harry�s ear. Harry moaned involuntarily, and then he slid his own hands down Severus� back to slide over the older wizard�s buttocks, cupping and squeezing.

Lost in sensations that he had never experienced before, Harry was unaware of being coaxed and helped out of his underwear. He was beyond thought when the caressing hand on his buttocks slid between them to rub across Harry�s opening, and then probe at it. Harry moaned more, and then he pressed himself into that probing hand, only knowing that he hungered for it. He moaned even louder when he felt himself entered by what must be one of Severus� fingers.

Harry�s hands took on a life of their own. While one still caressed Severus� back and buttocks, his other hand slid around to the front and began lightly stroking Severus� quickly hardening shaft. He did notice when Severus� body suddenly became covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and his skin began to cool.

Harry barely noticed when Severus� muttering against his neck was interrupted by a Summoning Charm. He did notice when Severus� hand removed itself from his backside, then returned with a liberal coating of something incredibly slippery. With remarkable ease, the intruding digit slid nearly all the way inside, making Harry feel suddenly like he had died and ended up in Paradise.

A second digit followed moments later, making Harry gasp and stiffen, then relax as the penetrating fingers began rotating inside him, sending delicious shudders though his body.

Adrift in the feelings, Harry did not protest, and even cooperated when he was rolled over onto his back, and a warm weight settled onto his body. He whined in protest when the fingers were withdrawn, then gasped when something else probed at him. His gasp turned to a moan as something considerably thicker than a finger began to slide inside him, and cried out sharply as Severus� rod sheathed its full length in his willing body.

The cry woke Severus out of his fever dream. He looked down at the young man beneath him, surprise and then guilt etching themselves across his features. His arms tensed, and Harry felt his weight begin to leave.

�No!� he cried out, wrapping his arms around Severus. He rocked his hips upwards, hopeful of making Severus oblivious of anything but the fact that he was inside Harry.

As Harry hoped, Severus closed his eyes, and then began moving in and out of him, every stroke bumping a place inside that sent shocks of pleasure through Harry, and drove him higher and higher on a spiral he had never experienced before.

All too soon, at least for Harry, Severus reached between them and began stroking Harry in time to his thrusts. He kept it up with a seemingly unflaggable energy until Harry came, screaming his name.

Harry was coasting down from the peak of pleasure when he felt Severus come inside him, which nearly sent him over the edge again.

Exhausted, Severus collapsed in Harry�s arms, all the energy he had built up in the last three days expended in one frenetic event.

Harry slipped his arms around his lover, reveling in the feel of Severus on him, and in him. This, he suddenly realized, was what the others would not stop talking about. This also, was what he had been looking for. Unexpected, unknown, something had stolen into his body and taken his heart, leaving an overflowing feeling behind it.

�I love you, Severus,� Harry whispered into the other man�s hair. �I will do what I have to for you to see that.�

You should know now that you're not alone.

Take my heart and we will find,

You will find, your way home.

Severus Snape woke slowly to an unfamiliar sensation. There was another warm body in the bed with him. There was a heartbeat and breathing pattern in addition to his own. In addition, he was laying on this person, this man, and had a part of his anatomy firmly entrenched inside the other.

His eyes popped open as he realized who the other person was, and what he had done.

Sound asleep, sixteen-year-old Harry Potter lay with his arms around his Potions Master, a beatific smile on his lips. He shakily lifted himself to try to extricate himself from the person who had occupied his thoughts almost constantly for the last three weeks.

Harry�s eyelids fluttered, then opened, and his emerald eyes settled onto Severus� obsidian ones.

Harry smiled, causing butterflies to erupt madly in Severus� stomach.

�Do you feel better?� Harry asked softly. Dumbly, Severus nodded.

�Excellent,� Harry said, pulling him closer and kissing him.

�Forgive me,� Severus said. �I should not have ... I didn�t even ask ... This is not right!� He tried to pull himself free of Harry, but only succeeded in withdrawing, which drew a sigh of disappointment from the young man.

"How can it not be right?� Harry demanded. �I love you!� His declaration stopped Severus where he was.

�You what?� he asked, unable to believe he had heard him correctly.

�I love you,� Harry said firmly. �I could have stopped you. I�ve wanted you since that first night. I know that lots of people don�t believe that someone my age knows what they want, but I do.�

�You are not just any teenager,� Severus admitted.

�I know what I want,� Harry said. �What I want is you, forever. With rings and a house and everything that goes with it. I want to get rid of Voldemort so that we can just be ourselves, happy. I want you to be able to be yourself, not the utter bastard you pretend to be.�

�Harry,� Severus began, and then was silenced by Harry�s lips.

�No,� Harry finally said when he released him. �I won�t hear it. If my friends can�t handle my love for you, then they�re not friends. They should be happy that I�ve found someone to love.�

Harry�s gaze suddenly faltered, his eyes darkened, and he looked away.

�Unless you . . . don�t feel the same,� he said. His arms loosened their grip and he turned his head away.

Severus was surprised and appalled at how quickly Harry went from overjoyed to frightened and afraid. Something deep inside him told him that if he turned Harry away, he would never be happy.

Severus reached up gently and turned Harry�s face to him, then kissed Harry as deeply and as long as he could.

Harry looked into Severus� eyes when he was released from the kiss, searching for something.

�I have come to love you, Harry,� Severus said quietly. �You are not at all what you seemed to be. You are more mature and complex than most experienced wizards I know. If you are mad enough to want me, I am mad enough to stay as long as you will let me.�

�I hope you�re ready for eternity, then, Severus,� Harry said, his eyes sparkling and tears of joy running down his cheeks. �I will always want you.�
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I Will Carry You