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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Three: -Does being a good guy mean you also have to be a nice guy? Draco is about to find out. Companionable silences and fist fights are a good way to hide deeper emotions.
Warning: This part contains mild violence, explicit sex between men, confusion about sex (not non-con really!) and as you can guess, angst.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
"Whoo! Look at that one fly!"
Harry grinned at Ron and then took a better hold on the gnome that was dangling upside down in his grasp. "They should have a de-gnoming Cup as well. You'd be in our national team, I bet."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Harry Quidditch Hero Potter!" Ron bowed deep. His gaze was already on the next gnome. He could throw that one even farther.
It was pretty weird how much fun they were both having. After a few days of playing every possible game they could think of -- including a weird wizarding version of tic tac toe -- Ron had been ready to do anything to get out of the cottage. Even go and do laundry.
There had been no need to go that far. Harry had been more than willing to go out on walks with him. It was probably a relief to spend time away from Malfoy and Snape. No matter how his friend might claim he didn't mind their presence, Ron could see the tension in him. This was much better. He was so glad he'd suggested de-gnoming the garden right after breakfast.
He'd noticed how wistful Malfoy had looked as they'd got ready to go out. It had just added to his feeling of satisfaction. Yes, this was a beautiful day indeed.
Harry swung his gnome around and let it go, watching it fly over the bushes. "Oh, bugger!" He'd never be as good as Ron at this. All the Weasleys had too much practice.
"Don't worry! It'll come to you." It wasn't as if they didn't have enough gnomes to practice on. Ron shook his head as he noticed that more of the small creatures were popping up from their underground lairs. They were just stupid. Grabbing another one, he added, "But I still think you'd best concentrate on Quidditch."
Harry wiped his hands on his robes. "Yeah. But just think how it would be if they really had a de-gnoming Cup! I could root for our team whenever Quidditch season's off. Or maybe I'd join Seamus in rooting for the Irish de-gnoming team! That would be fun."
"You little..." Letting out an offended squeal, Ron swung his gnome and then chased Harry around the small garden with the gnome swinging from side to side like a club.
Snape snorted at the sight, and then turned away from the window.
The cauldron he'd used earlier was drying in the corner, the small jars full of various potions for the outhouse lining a shelf with his sharpest cutting knifes. He'd been idly cleaning up the room when the commotion from the outside had caught his attention. Forgetting all about sweeping the floor, he'd stood by the window watching Harry and Weasley toss confused gnomes out of the small garden.
No hard work should look like so much fun. It was probably some obscure Gryffindor trait. Snape was certain that most of the professional gnome exterminators were former Gryffindors. Or maybe Hufflepuffs.
Letting out a huffing sound he went to grab his broom and then swept the floor in silence. He didn't have anything else to do.
No more potions to brew, no things to organize. He could of course read for a while or even go and chase Eppy out of the kitchen and make some lunch. It would be amusing to see Weasley choke on the food again, like the last time when he'd heard that the soup he was devouring with gusto was indeed been made by Snape.
He didn't go to get a book. Neither did he go to the kitchen. He was not about to invent menial tasks to keep busy, when there was something he should face.
It was quite possible that this was absolutely the worst mistake Snape had ever made.
Staring at the parchment rolls on the table, he smiled a sarcastic little smile. No. However foolish this was, it came nowhere near his worst mistake, the decision to throw his life away in a futile quest for glory, excitement and revenge.
This came as a very good second.
He had not hurried in grading, taking his time going through the potions those three half-wits had brewed, reading their essays and notes over and over again. It had been peaceful to concentrate on something real like that. Potions, his only passion.
It had also been a very good way to torment his students. After a week, Weasley had been a nervous wreck every time he'd stepped out of his room. He couldn't really blame him, he'd be nervous as well if he was as incompetent with brewing simple potions as the Gryffindor was. Even young Malfoy had started to look anxious as days rolled by.
Snape refused to even think about the hopeful expression on Harry. The sparkle in the clear green eyes was just the kind of idiotic response he'd come to anticipate from the boy.
He raised his hand to touch the scrolls. He had spent hours reading through them; analyzing every single sentence, making comments with red ink. It had been a strange pleasure not to be rushed with this. Instead of dozens of parchments and a tight schedule, he'd had only three to read and all the time in the world.
When he had finally finished with the grading, he had sat here, in his small room, lost in thought. It had definitely not been as pleasant as the grading. His mind had taken him to places where he never wanted to visit again, through thoughts and memories best left alone.
All because of a foolish young man who seemed adamant on making his life hell.
Snape hated the feeling of being completely lost. Helplessness was something he wanted to avoid at any cost. He'd lived through years with no control over his own destiny, even his own body. Never again. He had his mind and his logic and his sarcasm; guaranteed not to make him feel lost ever again.
Except none of those things could help him now.
Angry at his own thoughts, he pushed the scrolls to the side and reached out for the first thing he could see, a small pitcher. His whole being burned with the need to brew something, to concentrate on something precise and beautiful. Like so many times in the past, he would use it as a distraction from unpleasant thoughts.
Too bad he'd already finished with everything. There were no more ingredients ready, no more potions he had to make.
There was nothing to distract him here. Everything was quiet. The two Gryffindors had left the garden, so there was no sound of squealing. He was still wondering about how he had become to anticipate the sound of someone breathing or turning pages or tapping the side of a porcelain cup with a spoon while he worked.
"This is ridiculous!" he declared. His solitude had always been precious to him, in the dungeons, in here. He did not miss the presence of a teenage twerp who could barely hold his own end in a conversation.
He did however notice the difference and wouldn't exactly mind having Harry here. Wasn't utterly disgusted by everything that had happened between them.
For a fleeting moment, Snape wondered if it was because of all the fumes he'd breathed in the dungeons and the dismal basement in the Malfoy Mansion; the countless poisons and hallucinogens he'd brewed in his youth finally working on him, driving him to rash deeds and insanity. Even though it would be logical, he had to discard the thought after thinking it through.
He was not going to lie to himself like that again. On some level, his honesty really did seem to be absolute.
The thought reminded him of Harry and his serious expression. It wasn't surprising. Most of his thoughts seemed to be related to that annoying idiot these days.
Not only thoughts, but emotions as well. None of those disgustingly mushy things most people seemed to feel when presented with the prospect of an intimate relationship.
Mostly confusion, followed by anger over his own confusion. It was the first time for a very long time that Severus Snape didn't know how to act.
He couldn't comprehend what Harry wanted with him. His world had never given teenage romance a change. It had been a lesson he'd been taught early on, when he'd been thrown from complete innocence into absolute decadence.
It was clear that Harry wanted more than just sex. The problem was, he had no idea what that would be. He was definitely not interested in such romances he'd witnessed at Hogwarts; the mere thought of cooing and walking hand in hand and whispering sweet nothings to someone was enough to make him nauseous. He had no patience for idiotic declarations or public displays of affection.
His life was a quiet one, filled with work and research, and he liked it that way. Relationships were a game. He had no time nor desire for such interruptions, didn't want to bring that kind of turmoil into his life.
Harry's quiet presence didn't really change the way he felt. Neither did his dry -- and rather shocking -- wit. The fact that he wasn't physically repulsive was of no concern.
Snape had to wonder about the very alien emotion he felt thinking about those soft touches Harry had inflicted on him. They had been... pleasant. For the first time in his life, he had not minded casual brushes of a hand against his. Had not forced himself to be still as someone invaded his privacy.
No amount of pleasant touches would compensate with ridiculous behavior. Gaining a -- what? sexual partner? lover? -- would not be worth losing his perfect life. His solitude.
Snorting loudly at his own foolishness, Snape put the pitcher back on the table. He couldn't even claim he still had his peace and quiet.
This would undoubtedly disrupt his life even more. It was quite surprising to realize that he thought it might be worth it. Harry would stop behaving like a hormonal idiot after a few weeks, of that he was certain. The prospect of physical intimacy with him wasn't appalling and he had to admit he was curious.
Curiosity was something he'd tried to curb ever since it had lead him to the darker side of the magical world. This was not as complicated as Dark Magic or pain or killing. Snape smiled at that. Sexual encounters could be invigorous, but they were hardly worth angsting over.
If things got bad, he could always slip some memory potions into their tea and then pretend this had never happened.
Snape glared at the clock on his wall. It was a proper wizarding clock, showing him that all the three youngsters were back in the cottage. There was some time before lunch.
Time seemed to go by slowly these days. He wondered if that was the reason for all this strangeness surrounding his life. Living in Hogwarts had meant following a routine set by almost two decades spent observing the cycle of the school year. This idleness was completely destroying his sense of propriety.
He'd made plans; definite plans to teach, to prepare these fools for what was surely ahead of them when they returned to Hogwarts. It was not the same as working with the O.W.L.s or the N.E.W.T.s, but it had been a good substitute.
If only they could now concentrate on what was really important. But no. Young Malfoy was amusing himself making Weasley suffer -- not that Snape could really blame him. Harry seemed completely satisfied with the silly notion of pursuing a sexual relationship with him, seeming happy to be free from the realities of war. He didn't know what Weasley would prefer to do, and neither did he care.
Young people! Sometimes Snape wished he'd never taken on teaching.
Then again, there were many things he regretted. With a sweeping motion he grabbed the parchments from the table. What was one more mistake on his already long list?
The sound of soft laughter guided him to the living room. He stood in the shadows just outside the doorway for a moment, watching the three young men.
Such a familiar sight; Weasley and Harry playing wizard's chess, both looking a bit windy, bits and pieces of grass and twigs in Harry's mussed hair. Draco Malfoy sitting on the couch reading a book.
At least they knew how to be quiet. Snape wished they would not start a big ruckus after this, knowing that it was probably unavoidable.
Harry looked up, a little surprised to see Snape walking into the room. It was almost an hour till lunch time.
Then he realized this had nothing to do with their meal. He couldn't help shivering as he saw the three rolls of parchment Snape was carrying.
Not paying any attention to Harry, Snape walked to the table and placed the parchment rolls on it. He cast a dark look around the room, knowing this would be the last time he could ever intimidate these three for academic reasons. "I should have made an anti-vomiting potion before reading this drivel. I certainly hope neither you, Potter, nor you, Mr. Weasley will even dream of an occupation where you would need the knowledge of Potions. Or logic."
With that, he turned around and walked back to his room.
There was a moment of utter silence in the room. Draco was the first one to get up. He was stunned by the empty feeling inside despite the fact that he did know he had passed the test. Untying the red string from around the scroll with unsteady hands, he tried to stay calm. He almost dropped his notes about the potion they'd brewed. Damn it!
Still, seeing the single letter drawn on the top of the parchment made him almost howl with joy. He smiled so hard his lips hurt. At least this one thing had gone exactly the way he'd wanted.
Ignoring the way Malfoy was grinning, Ron sauntered to the table. He handed Harry his parchment, trying not to think of the way the one with 'Mr. Weasley' on top of it seemed to almost scream the word "Failed!"
"I think I'm going to throw up." He was only half joking.
Harry nodded. He couldn't even say anything. So much depended on this. Yanking the string off, he rolled the parchment open.
The text on the essay was strangely blurred, the black ink joined by red one, familiar handwriting adorning his own with cutting comments and corrections. For a moment, Harry could only see the lines of color dancing in front of him. Then he focused on the grade written next to his name on the top left corner.
"Thank Merlin!" It was a soft whisper. He stared at the beautifully shaped curve of the letter C spelled there and felt his eyes fill with tears. No other grade had ever made him feel like this before. Not even the odd A he got from DADA.
This was completely deserved, earned by hours of studying. There was no extra for him for being the 'Boy Who Lived', not a hint of favoritism for the hero of the wizarding world.
He had always hated Potions, but right this moment, he felt damn proud of this exam.
"I passed!" Ron's yell echoed in the room, even drawing Harry out of his daze. Holding the parchment tight, he jumped around, face shining with joy. "I passed! I got a C! I passed!"
Harry smiled brightly, accepting Ron's fierce hug. He was feeling giddy as well. They had passed. All those hours of working with icky ingredients and nasty potions hadn't been for nothing. They would never have to go to another Potions lesson or read another Potions book.
He wondered if Ron would want to celebrate in the traditional way, or if he was going to save his books for Ginny. It wasn't a secret that there was usually a large bonfire lit just beyond Hagrid's cottage on the last day of school, and at least most of the Divinations books ended up there.
Of course no one probably wanted to make Snape angry by doing such a thing with the Potions books. It didn't matter that the man wasn't exactly their teacher anymore. He would still be feared by most.
Harry froze, his hands dropping from where they'd been clenched against Ron's back. He stepped away from the joyous hug.
It was over now. The studying, the reading. The time he and Ron and maybe even Malfoy had to worry about failing Potions and maybe the whole year as well. Snape was no longer their teacher, could no longer torment them in class or give them a sharply drawn F.
He was not Snape's student anymore.
"Harry?" Ron asked, wondering about the determined look on his friend's face. "Are you all right?"
His words went unnoticed.
Still holding the parchment tight, Harry walked out of the living room, heading towards Snape's door. He didn't bother to answer to Ron's yell, knowing that if he didn't do this right now, there might never be another chance. The moment was perfect, and he was not going to waste it.
He knocked on the door, not even noticing his hand was trembling slightly. He knew Snape was in there. When there was no sound from within the room, he knocked again. This time he didn't bother to wait; he simply pushed the door open.
"Come on in, Potter," Snape said sarcastically. He turned away from the small pile of dirty roots he'd been staring for the past minutes. He hadn't done anything to them, the mold so clear in them making then ill suited for any potion. He just didn't want to just stand there as if he was doing nothing, knowing he'd probably receive a visitor sooner or later.
Harry ignored the words, focusing on the slightly defensive stance the man had taken. "I passed the test." It came out with wonder, as if he still had problems believing it.
"Yes, I do know that. After all, I was the one forced to read through the drivel you call an answer and then scored your incoherent ramblings. Congratulations, Potter. You did indeed manage to pass."
Dropping the parchment, Harry pushed the door shut behind him. "You're not my teacher anymore." He knew that technically he could still be under Snape's supervision, at least that was how Snape would probably interpret his role right now. He didn't care. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.
Snape didn't even bother to pretend he didn't know what Harry meant by that. "I'm not." There was a small pause. "But you're still an idiot."
Things would not change as much as most people might think. The fact that the twerps left school didn't make them adults in his eyes. They'd simply be free to go and spread their stupidity throughout the wizarding world.
He would not change from a teacher into a friend, would not see the youngsters as equals. He had absolutely no patience for idle chit chat. No one would ever get an open invitation to contact him if they needed someone to talk to, no one would be allowed in his life.
Except for this one young man. With him, the damage was already done. There was no hope of pushing him away now.
Harry nodded before moving closer. "Yes. I am."
This time Snape didn't tense, didn't try to move away. He stood there, clearly waiting for what would happen next, to see if Harry would indeed do this.
Slowly, Harry touched Snape's arm. It was a familiar thing, safe to both of them. He didn't leave his hand there for long, sliding it up. The cloth felt almost too smooth under his palm, and a moment later the sensation changed when his hand reached Snape's neck.
He didn't turn his gaze from Snape's eyes. There was a fire burning in the dark depths, not anger, but something unfathomable. It wasn't an invitation, indeed there was no sign that Snape was welcoming any of this. The only sign of acceptance was the fact that he wasn't throwing Harry out of his room with a couple of hexes to emphasize his point.
It was easy to pull Snape closer. Even easier to lean against him, and finally press his lips against his. Harry closed his eyes, knowing nothing could make him back away now.
The kiss was similar to the one they had shared in the hallway. A soft brush of lips. Harry didn't dare to do anything else. When Snape didn't push him away, he leaned back to see his expression.
He should have known Snape looked exactly the same as always.
Closing his eyes, he tilted his head a bit to mind the nose and then kissed him again. Softly at first, then more demanding, wondering if Snape was going to simply stand here and endure this. He opened his eyes in panic only to close them again as Snape finally kissed him back.
There was no hesitation. Snape's lips moved to answer his kiss although his body was still rigid.
Half formed thoughts flashed through Harry's mind. He marveled at the faint flavor of the tea he tasted on Snape's lips. Reveled in the touch. Couldn't believe he was really doing this, not simply kissing him, but being kissed back with considerable skill.
Yes, Snape could definitely kiss. It was quite different from most of the first kisses Harry had experienced. No shoving his tongue sloppily into his mouth and leaving it there, no slobbering. No biting. Harry didn't know why that was such a surprise. Of course Snape would know what to do.
Not everyone thought he was a disgusting greasy git.
Harry raised his other hand and then buried his fingers into Snape's hair. He had wondered about this for some time now, imagined how it would be to finally touch him. It was funny how his imagination had never really caught all the possibilities, for this was nothing like his dreams. Snape's hair felt slick under his touch, the greasy strands falling limply between his fingers. It felt strangely pleasing. Not at all disgusting.
Deepening the kiss, he molded his body against Snape's.
He was hot all over, still a bit dizzy with the relief over the exam. All thoughts were beyond his reach, his world filled with this giddy and happy feeling.
Kissing Snape -- being kissed by Snape -- was way better than he'd ever imagined. He could spend hours doing this if Snape allowed him. The stray thought made him open his eyes.
Slowly, he let go and moved back. It took most of his willpower, but he didn't want to make Snape think that he was being a stupid hormonal teenager. He couldn't believe how calm Snape looked when he himself felt like he'd just ran ten laps around the Quidditch pit.
"Your seduction technique needs some improvement, Potter." Brushing back his mussed hair, Snape cast a faintly amused look at Harry. "Is this the way Gryffindors do everything? Head on?"
It was so like the man to try to insult him right now, Harry didn't even care. "I would have tried a dinner and roses, but for some reason I didn't think you'd appreciate that."
Snape thought of such a scenario, imagining Eppy glaring at the doorway while Harry sat on the other side of the table, trying to eat, talk and make a good impression at the same time. No, he wouldn't have appreciated that. "Indeed."
The way he said it made Harry shiver.
"I..." For once Harry was glad that his voice cracked. He had no idea of what to say, really. All the things that came to mind felt somehow stupid; that he liked Snape, that he wanted this. It should already be obvious.
He didn't want to make another joke about it, mostly because that would probably lead into nervous babbling, and he didn't want to do that now.
Snape waited patiently for Harry to gather his thoughts. This was completely new to him, such hesitation and fondness never entering his previous encounters. It hadn't been unpleasant to be the object of soft touches, on the contrary, but he wasn't going to initiate any more. He'd survived without them this long.
"I'd like to come back here after lunch." No matter how much he'd like to stay right here now, Harry knew it was impossible. He didn't care what the others would think about him disappearing for hours, but Snape probably would. He didn't want to make the man to feel uncomfortable about this whole thing. "And spend some time with you."
Strange. Sex had always been spontaneous, mutual pleasure being the most important thing. He realized that with Snape it would not be that easy. He didn't want just sex, consequences be damned. Being able to relax with him and talk for hours were still more important than physical intimacy.
After a moment, Snape nodded curtly. "If you wish to." From the look on Harry's face, there was no question about it.
"I do." Harry smiled. He sure did.
He wondered if Snape would allow him to transfigure the chair into a more comfortable one, or even a couch. Maybe, if he demonstrated that he wasn't totally incompetent with his wand. He was definitely going to enjoy spending time here, talking with Snape, or just staying here in silence.
He wasn't going to barge on. He could do slow. Yes he could.
Keeping that firmly in mind, he went to pick up his scroll from the floor where it had fallen from his nerveless fingers and then walked out of the room, resisting the urge to go and kiss Snape again.
Ron was leaning against the wall just outside Snape's room, a worried expression on his face. "Are you all right? You look weird!" He wasn't sure, but he could bet that Harry was flushed with anger.
"I'm fine," Harry said, lowering his gaze to the parchment he held. "We passed the test!" He sounded breathless.
"We sure as hell did!" It was easy to understand the dazed look. After all, Ron was feeling like that as well. To hell with Malfoy and his smirking over his grade. If he'd got an A, it was probably because he was a Slytherin anyway.
Harry exhaled. He needed to calm down or this would all end. Having Ron worry about his weird behavior previously had been bad enough. Now that he needed time to spend with Snape, it would be worse.
There was no way he could be honest with him. Not because he wasn't comfortable with the whole thing, but because Ron would cause a scene. He didn't want that. Not now, not before he'd had a chance to be with Snape.
Deciding to stick as close to the truth as possible, he said, "I'll need some time alone with Snape later today." A small smile forced its way to his lips and he didn't even bother to fight it away. "We have some things to deal with, and I think this is the perfect time for that."
Ron wasn't surprised. He'd been thinking about the very thing himself. Now that Snape wasn't their teacher anymore, he had no power over them. He could say whatever he wanted. "Okay. Just try not to be killed there."
"I..." Harry's voice cracked again. He had to swallow hard before he could continue. "I try not to." He couldn't believe it was this easy.
No questions, no suspicion. It made him feel crummy, but not bad enough to actually say anything to Ron.
"Good. Now let's go and see if Eppy's served lunch already."
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-25 03:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 12:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 10:21 pm (UTC):D
And yeah, Harry's obvious breathless enthusiasm is totally adorable.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 06:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 10:22 pm (UTC)*hides*
And hell yes, Draco will use his common sense and see what's going on. Ron on the other hand... :D
no subject
Date: 2006-08-27 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 11:20 pm (UTC)O for Outstanding
E for Exceeds Expectations
A for Acceptable
and them, um, I'm not quite sure, but I think it was either D for Dismal or P for Poor, and then T for Terrible or Troll.
In any case, I'm sure they don't use the standard A, B, C grading schema we use.
Sorry to be a nudge, but after really enjoying the first two books and the first half of this one, the real world grading schema was jarring.
Looking forward to more story...
no subject
Date: 2006-10-11 11:27 pm (UTC):) Yeah, it's one of my pet peeves... Not mixing bits and pieces of the canon I don't follow with both the movie and book canon for the first 4 HP books...
no subject
Date: 2006-10-19 04:04 am (UTC)I'm still loving your story -- thank you for writing it.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-19 06:18 am (UTC):) Glad you like the story, it's been fun to write it.