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Beauty in the Beast	By : ChattedAli Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2150 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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-Beauty in the Beast
- 1
Disclaimer 1: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters there in. No. . . Those beautiful men and gorgeous women belong to one J.K. Rowling. They are just on loan. . . And I will use them to the best of my abilities. Also I do not own the songs that will appear through out the story. Tourniquet is owned by Evanescence and Drop in the Ocean is by Michelle Branch. I also am only borrowing these. I give full credit where credit is due for the use of said characters and music.

Disclaimer 2: Please. . . I know that the beginning is slow and that there is not much action in the way of sexual encounters. However the story will get faster and the sex more involved. Please bear with me as I write this. The details will come along and the scenes will be more descriptive as the story develops. If anything in this story should offend, please just stop reading do not flame me. I do not like being burned. . . But if flaming is necessary then I will roast weenies and mallows. Thanks. Please R&R! I love to know what my readers think.

Chapter 1: Severus� P.O.V.

~I�m walking through the Black forest looking for something� what it is I�m not sure. I know it�s important but I don�t know what it is or where it is. The ferns slap against my black pants, wetting them from mid-thigh to mid-calf, and my torn tee-shirt is heavy with the sweat of my effort, but my heavy boots make no sound as I bull through the undergrowth. In fact, the almost night-dark stillness of the forest seems singularly devoid of any sound save for that of my breathing and the pounding of my heart; almost as if the entire world held its breath and watched in silent anticipation. The gentle scents of sodden leaf-mold and the mossy scent of living trees fill my nostrils and I can see nothing but tree trunks for as far as my sight allows. Then, off to my left, the gloom beneath the canopy of ebony limbs seems to lift. I walk towards the light and finally break through barrier at the edge of the forest. I very nearly turn back to resume my search in the forest where at least, I could move without struggling for every foot of ground, but a faint tang reaches my nostrils and the glowing light beckons to me like the hope of salvation. This new scent is almost lost in the welter of forest smells, but is heady and pervasive and undeniable in its allure. With a final, almost desperate lunge, I plunge through the final barrier of clutching branches and almost pitch to my face as my boots sink deep in golden sand.
I fight to remain standing and recover to find myself on a beach overlooking an expanse of water so crystalline and blue that it could only border upon on the Mediterranean Sea. The warm salt-air cools my face as I wipe the sweat from my eyes and it is only when I attempt to straighten my shirt and to free the sodden cloth from my back and shoulders that I realize that I am wearing my oldest and most fondly kept bikini. In my arms there is a towel and I spread it on the sand. The smell of sea salt, wet sand, and sea weed wash over me. I lay down on the towel, my stomach warming from the sand and the sun warming my flanks and back. I close my eyes and breathe deeply of the fresh clean smells around me. A shadow passes across my face and stops. I open my eyes just enough to see two sculpted feet. Ah these feet� any of the master artists would be proud to call these feet their creation. I stop to admire the gentle arch of his instep and the gentle sweep of the muscles to the ankle. Slowly I follow the curve of the ankle to legs that look to be carved by Michelangelo. I sigh. From my current position I can not see above his knees. I roll slowly and open my eyes to see his body more clearly. My look is one of admiration and want. Slowly my body is revealed as I turn to face him. I reach his slender hips and a smile crosses my dour features. I admire the gentle angles formed by the coming together of his legs and torso. I roll more revealing my body more and more as I take in more of his. My eyes travel from the angular hips to his torso. The smooth, rippling muscles make the skin dance even when he is standing still. He is not overly muscular, but rather lean like a gymnast. Then I follow the torso to the face. His features are hidden in shadow. His head sits in the sun. But his hair is light brown and wavy and just past his shoulders and glows with radiance all unto itself. He seems to want to say something but the shadows hide the movements of his lips from me and there is a block in communication between the two of us. After a moment the block is broken and his words come through to me from his kind and gentle heart to mine of stone. Let me teach you to love again. Let me help you find love. He leans down and brushes the hair from my face. Let me hold and help you. He kisses me tenderly and my heart begins to melt.

I am transported to a mountain side with the setting sun on my right hand and the rising moon on my left. I gaze down the serpentine path ahead of me. The night is very still save a gentle breeze that caresses my face and lifts my dark hair from my shoulders and ruffles my oldest and most beloved shirt; all God�s creatures have settled in to their dens and nests leaving me to watch the sun and send it on its way. A rustle in the bushes down the slope grabs my attention and wrenches it away from the twilight sky. A doe rousing herself and her fawn to forage for food, I think to myself. Just a doe and her fawn. I go back to watching the sky as Twilight dusts the world with colors retreating from the invading night. Then there� A presence behind me. I turn� There he stands. The man from the beach� I know him, but I don�t. I cannot place him. I do not remember the beach or the words he said to me� they are like a dream� forgotten after rising from sleep� just beyond my consciousness. But I know him� it�s almost like I�ve known him from another life� He leans down and scoops me up. He is so strong� I feel safe in his arms� I know he won�t drop me� We�ve done this before� in that other life� He carries me to the top of the mountain and sets my feet on the ground, but he doesn�t let go of me� He holds me tenderly against the cold of the encroaching night. He holds me close. I look up at him� His face is shadowed by the sun� I can almost make out the color of his eyes� His hair is ablaze with the red-gold natural highlights. I can�t tell details but the details don�t matter. He leans down and nuzzles my neck. He seems to want to say something to me though no words come from his mouth. And I feel a barrier between us. He again begins to speak, but this time it is different. The barrier is gone and he speaks with his heart. Let me love you. Let me help you love again. He leans down then and, with his hair blazing, kisses me tenderly. As darkness envelopes us he fades from my arms and I am left alone on my mountain so high. ~

I fight to stay asleep. I do not want to wake and lose the feeling of his touch on my skin. This dream has come to me many nights and every time I lose the sensation of his touch when I open my eyes. This morning I can only fight the break of day for a short while. I open my eyes and the sensation is gone. I sigh and get out of bed. The cold, damp air hits my bare skin and I can�t help but shiver after the heat if the dream and my bed. This dream has plagued me for many nights and the sensation gets stronger each time it comes to me. Sadly I can not put a name to the man in my dreams. I look around my chambers and notice that there is something amiss; I can not figure out what it is but I know I will soon find out.

I tried to kill the pain
But only brought more
(So much more)
I lay dying
And I�m pouring crimson regret and betrayal

I go to my bathroom and start the water. They say I do not wash my hair� But I know better. The greasy look is just natural shine. I can not help the look, but I can keep from letting the rumors be true. I refuse to give the students that satisfaction. Finally, the water becomes the right temperature (usually the water is magically warmed to the temperature the bather wishes instantly, but I prefer to let it warm naturally. It�s better for my skin). I grab a bottle of rose hip oil and pour a few drops into the tub. The room is filled with the sent of roses� *sigh*. I have been transported back to Mother�s rose garden� I spent many hours there escaping my father and his �habits�.

I�m dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved?
Am I too lost?

As I slip into the water, I let all the negative things slip from my shoulders. I am calm and for the first time in many days, I am relaxed and I let a smile play on my lips. I feel a stirring in my loins and I realize I am thinking of the dream man� I reach down and let my fingers skirt over my inner thighs. I sigh and lay my head against the wall. As my fingers brush my loins I moan softly. My length hardens slightly and I can only wrap my fingers around it and make slow, deliberate strokes coaxing it to full hardness. As I stroke myself I see him� his gentle hands touching me� His sweet heart-voice whispering to me� telling me he loves me� His tender touch caressing my erection� How I wish he were more than a dream� But better to love a dream than to not love at all. As I stroke myself, I am thankful it is a Saturday. I have no classes to teach and therefore can luxuriate in my bath and find my slow pleasure. As my hand works the length on my shaft, I concentrate only on the man from my dreams�

My God, my tourniquet,
Return to Me Salvation�

I am interrupted by a knock on my door. Grumbling I get out of the bath, put on my robes, and go to the door. �What?� my voice is heavy and yet still deadly.

�It�s full moon tonight Severus. You told me to come down first thing this morning and get the Wolfsbane potion. I didn�t interrupt anything did I?� It�s Remus Lupin� How stupid of me to forget that he was coming down here�

�You did actually but no matter. I have your potion. Wait here.� I go to my workshop and pick up the goblet I had set aside. I pour the potion into it and return to the door. �Your potion, Lupin.�

�Thank you, Severus.� He drinks it quickly and then hands the goblet back to me.

�Don�t thank me. If I had my way you�d be with out the potion, just as you were in Hogwarts.� My snide comment causes a look of pain to cross his face and I know what he is thinking about�

�Of course� you do this because Albus asked you to. I know. You�ve made it abundantly clear you have no love for me, but I am grateful anyway.�

�I do not. Now if that is all you need, then go back to your grieving for your Puppylove. I have other business to attend to today and I do not have time to dally here speaking with a love struck lycanthrope.� I make to close the door, but he stops the door with his foot.

�Severus� Albus also asked me to remind you about the staff meeting on Monday.�

�I never forget a staff meeting. I�ll be there.�

�Of course, good-bye then, Severus.�
�Good day.� He leaves and I go back to the bathroom. I test the water and find that it is still lukewarm. I go to my bedside table and retrieve my wand and add a little heat. As I slip back into the water, I sigh and sink below the water line and let the water seep into my skin slowly working out all the kinks and knots that seeing him left in my body. I can not deny him for much longer� NO! He means nothing to me. He loves Black and I do not figure in to his equation.

My God, my tourniquet,
Return to Me Salvation�

I slowly bathe myself, and realize that the pleasure I was feeling that had gone away when I answered the door was back with a vengeance. Soap is not my choice of lubricant, so I step from my now cooling bath, flick my wand, and as the water drains from the tub, I walk back into the bed chamber. I reach into my nightstand and pick up a phial that is all too familiar. I lie back down in my bed (as I don�t have to be anywhere this morning) and pour a small amount of the rose oil into my hand. I close my eyes and think of the dream� How I wish it was his hand� I smear the oil over my erection and sigh at the contact. As long as my eyes are closed I can fantasize that it is him touching me and not my own �bloodstained� hand. I let the heat wash over me and sigh. My voice becomes sinister as my arousal becomes more and more overwhelming. The sent of roses only heightens my sensitivity to touch and sound. My rhythm quickens to match my heartbeat. I growl as I touch my own turgid flesh. My hips buck into my hand involuntarily and my blood turns to liquid fire in my veins, but I am not yet close to my completion� I imagine his voice as it growls to me all the things I want him to say� Softly my voice reaches my ears, �I love you, my light�� I let my hand speed up and as my moans reach fever pitch and intensity, I reach my completion and cry out as my seed spills over my hand.

Do you remember me?
Lost for so long
Will you be on the other side?
Or will you forget me?
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Beauty in the Beast