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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 Four: -Before you can go forward, you must face your past. Sins of the father may bury the son. Harry will find out if a dog really is the man's best friend.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, mention of het rape, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes, angst and a partridge in a pear tree.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
Things were spinning slowly out of control, and Harry couldn't do anything but watch.
He'd woken up long before dawn, lying wide awake in bed and knowing he couldn't fall back to sleep even if he tried. Though insomnia had been his companion for years, he'd hoped he'd finally got rid of it.
No such luck.
Not wanting to wake anyone else up, he'd sneaked downstairs in his pajama bottoms and his favorite burgundy sweater to make a cup of tea. There had been a lot of time for him to think about the war and the Order and Fudge and Malfoy and stupid reporters and Weasleys before faint noise from Sirius and Remus' room had told him it was time to get back upstairs and grab a shower so that no one would know he'd been up half the night. Enough time to realize he couldn't do a thing to change what really bothered him.
He didn't like this strange narrowing of focus; life seemed to be a perpetual now, with the plans they made for the future almost an afterthought. Things that had happened barely weeks ago were a dream, a distant memory.
It made sense. Harry knew this was the most important thing in his life, but he still couldn't help worrying about losing himself somehow.
This was even worse than the stay at the cottage, not hiding from the reality but concentrating on it too hard. They were merely days away from actually putting everything in motion, and the hours simply couldn't pass quickly enough.
Life was a routine. Harry Potter the Great Hero went to Hogwarts, mingled with the Order, waited in vain for something to happen, for the Ministry to show some interest in the reality. Then he came home and stopped existing for a few hours, becoming Harry again.
He didn't know how long he could do this.
Hogwarts was becoming a scene of a play or a neverending nightmare, and the walls seemed to close in on him, the image made real by the multitudes of people massing around him whenever he wasn't standing by Dumbledore's side.
The forced smile turned very slowly into a passive mask or a scowl, heralding a time when such blatant expressions of adoration and thoughtless words would not be allowed anymore.
During the silent hours of the night, he'd had a stray thought of turning into what everyone wanted to see, and the nausea that had brought had been overwhelming. Sometimes he wondered if the only cure was to stop feeling.
Harry knew it was definitely time to figure out how to take some time for himself before he went totally insane.
But not now. He'd already promised Dumbledore he'd attend a small meeting about the housing in Hogsmeade and then there would be the thing about Beauxbatons and the giants followed by another meeting about something that was probably not important after all.
Sighing, Harry excused himself and walked from Ron and Hermione towards Dumbledore.
He noticed how he would pass Snape on his way, and his body tingled with yearning. It had been so damn long since he'd really talked to the man or just spent time alone with him in silence, but he couldn't even imagine staying with him now. There were simply too many semi-important things to focus on.
This was worse torture than anything. He saw Snape every day, could talk to him about trivial things, but he could never really be alone with him or touch him. Right now, he would settle for brushing his fingers against his cheek or leaning against him.
He missed Snape.
It was as simple as that.
The futility of the meetings and talking about the things he'd heard dozens of times already made him insane. Everyone wanted to talk, share things with him, and he had to stand here and pretend he was interested.
Yes, he agreed it would be great to have the new headquarters at Hogsmeade. Sure, they needed more new houses there as well. Hagrid's letter from France was welcome, and too bad about the arguments amongst the giants.
It never ended. By the time he was heading back to Dumbledore after a very detailed report about an upgraded wizarding plumbing system being installed to certain new houses in Hogsmeade, Harry was ready to hop on a broom and go looking for an evil Dark Lord to slay just to get rid of all this stupidity.
He saw that Dumbledore was standing quietly next to Minerva McGonagall, listening to her with a serious look on his face, and took a detour so that those two could talk in private.
Ron was talking to Seamus and Dean while Hermione seemed to be drinking tea with Terry Boot again. Some Hufflepuffs Harry remembered from the Arithmancy classes were ogling him, as if waiting for him to approach so they could attach to him like leeches.
"Impressive shadows under your eyes, Potter. I can see you haven't been sleeping."
Relief flooded through Harry, even though the sudden comment did make him jump. "I've been busy." A genuine smile spread on his face as he looked at Snape standing close by. "Hi."
"Yes." Snape nodded slightly. "I've noticed."
It was impossible to ignore the rumors that had been spreading ever since the great Order meeting. Their world was excited about the return of Harry Potter, and Snape had been unable to escape the very enthusiastic comments made by his colleagues every morning.
Harry's decision to live with Lupin and his friends and Draco Malfoy had stunned almost everyone. It was a miracle no one had spotted Black there yet, but Snape didn't doubt that would become news any day soon. Then there had been whispers about Potter partying in the night, none of the professors actually saying he'd been drinking and shagging around, but it was implied in every word and gesture.
Snape had never cared about the rumors. Not even when everything he heard sounded completely ludicrous.
He did however listen, and every tale, every outrageous lie made him angrier. These days, the house elves didn't even show in his rooms with the Daily Prophet anymore. The newspaper simply appeared on the table every morning.
"Anything I can do to help?" The offer slipped out before he could think, and was followed by a glare. "A potion, perhaps?"
He knew all too well it hadn't been the first thing on his mind.
Harry shook his head. "No thanks. I'm not too fond of taking stuff anyway." There were things that Snape could do and they would help, but there was no way he could slip away with the man into the dungeons and simply breathe freely right now.
"Yes, I know." Seeing the dark smudges under Harry's eyes, Snape wondered if the stubborn fool would even consider sleeping potions.
"But... Thanks for offering." Thanks for caring, Harry wanted to say, but the words refused to come out.
He wanted to say it, even just to see the way Snape glared and to hear the snort. Wanted to share the dark amusement, the intimacy of an inside joke no one else could possibly understand and simply have this moment with Snape.
Looking down at his feet, he remained silent. He was already trying his best not to snap and sharing something private with Snape would destroy all the effort.
It was best to just go talk about whatever insignificant things he could think of with Dumbledore before he lost it.
Snape leaned close to Harry, worried by the way he looked. It was becoming very clear that sleepless nights were probably the least of his problems.
"Don't!" Harry flinched away as he felt the sleeve brush against his arm. The simple touch felt like an electric jolt through his whole body. "Please don't touch me!"
The words hit Snape in a way that stunned him completely. Harry had never before told him not to touch him, and he realized he didn't like the refusal or what it implied. He had certainly become too casual with the lack of physical boundaries with Harry.
Angered by the uncertainty it made him feel, he opened his mouth to snarl out something vicious and only then saw the naked need in Harry's eyes.
"Please, Snape. You touch me now, and there'll be a new set of interesting headlines in tomorrow's papers." Harry was certain there would be an extra edition of the Prophet. The Boy Who Lived mauls his former professor in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
Snape raised an eyebrow. Of course he should have realized what this was all about. "I see."
"I..." Harry let out a choked laugh, the bitter sound reaching farther than he'd thought, making people stare at him in shock. "This is ridiculous." His gaze turned hard. "I want to..."
He had spent days doing nothing but the work that had been given to him, enduring unpleasant attention from the press and people he thought he knew. Now all he wanted was to touch Snape, to be with him, and he couldn't.
There was a lot for him to do even though it was almost dinner time. For a semi-secret organization, they had a lot of paperwork and when there were no more things to talk about, he'd spend hours reading before going to bed and spending a few hours staring at the wall.
"Then maybe you should." Voice level, Snape looked into Harry's eyes. Whatever stress and pressure was making Harry look like a walking corpse had to stop. "You can take a break. The world won't come to an end if you spend a few hours away from the Order."
Harry almost choked at the words fighting their way out of his mouth. "You really mean that?" There was an almost desperate hope in his eyes.
They both knew exactly what they were talking about.
Snape nodded. He didn't consider this as encouraging the idiot with his silly notions, though he wasn't delusional enough to think of anything else that might describe the invitation to the dungeons.
His back turned to the crowd, Harry didn't even try to suppress the shudder that came from imagining just going away with Snape.
Just the two of them in the dungeons, with no urgent conversations about insignificant things, no papers to read no people to meet. The twinge of guilt followed the thought immediately, but Harry crushed it mercilessly, seeing it as it was; the first step towards a total burnout, the madness he'd wanted to escape the very first day his tired steps took him to the dungeons.
"Wait here," he snapped.
Snape watched Harry turn around and walk away with measured steps. He could feel everyone's gaze on him but chose to ignore it.
He saw Harry say something curt to Weasley. They were too far for him to really hear what was said, but it was definitely something Weasley didn't want to hear. The boy went absolutely red in the face and he said something that made Harry stiffen with anger.
Whatever was said next didn't exactly help the situation.
It was painfully obvious where this would lead even before Harry turned and stalked back to Snape. His expression was full of dark anger and it made most people standing nearby flinch back in shock.
This was their leader, who always listened, who rarely spoke harshly, and now they could see why the Dark Lord might actually fear him.
"Snape." Harry tried to calm down a little, but his words still came out from between clenched teeth. "I need to talk to you. In private." He nodded towards the doorway. "Now."
Snape simply gestured for him to lead the way, not at all surpised when he headed straight towards the hallway that would lead to the dungeons.
The few people who came across them took one look at Harry's face and chose not to stop for a chat after all. No one envied Snape for the attention he was getting. It was clear that he was in trouble.
Harry was grinding his teeth by the time they finally reached the dungeons. Damn it! He didn't remember the hallways being this long. Keeping his gaze on the floor, he rushed onwards, knowing that if he looked at Snape, he'd probably break and try to crawl under his robes right now.
He said nothing when they reached the door and Snape opened it. Silent, he stepped into the familiar room and waited for the door to slam shut.
"Do you think you could have..." Snape's words were cut off by very enthusiastic lips covering his. It was an instinct by now to simply rise his hand and cradle the back of Harry's head while they kissed.
With desperation, Harry grabbed Snape's frock coat, fisting the black cloth hard as he kept kissing the man like he was starving for the contact.
He'd thought it would be enough to be here, to share the silence with Snape and hide from all the things that made him despair. He'd been wrong. The need to be as close to Snape as possible was overwhealming, maddening, and he tried to squirm closer, almost losing his balance. Only the strong hand around his waist kept him from tumbling to the floor.
"Snape..." He had to gasp for air, hating the loss of contact immediately. Nibbling on Snape's jaw, he let his hands roam wherever they could reach, fuzzily wondering if Snape had actually locked the door behind them.
It didn't really matter as long as he could do this right now.
He'd never felt this needy, this desperate before, not even that first time he'd tried to undress Snape, and after a moment he discarded the notion of opening buttons and simply ground his body against Snape's.
Coming in his robes wouldn't be that bad as long as he could feel Snape's touch.
Trying to keep his sneer firmly in place, Snape asked. "Could you please restrain your urges until we get to the bedroom?" Considering how hungry Harry's expression had been, he was amazed they had managed to get inside the dungeons before Harry started to rip his robes off with his teeth.
His self control was actually astonishing.
"No," Harry mumbled before kissing Snape again. "I really can't." He had made it here. There was no way he was going to wait till they got to the bed.
Tearing off his pants with one hand and then kicking them off, he reached for his wand with the other. He pointed it at the chair he'd become to think as his. "Engorgio!" He didn't even wait till the chair was fully enlarged before pushing Snape to sit down.
Hands fumbling, he attacked Snape's robes, needing to get rid of the clothes as quickly as possible.
Snape didn't say anything, even though comments about impatient idiots were right there waiting to come out as soon as he opened his mouth. He couldn't exactly criticize Harry's need when he could feel it burn him as well. Denying it was foolish, he'd got too used to Harry's presence in both his life and his bed.
Letting out a sigh, he moved to help Harry with his clothes.
Seeing the naked skin made Harry squirm against Snape. He almost fell on the floor as he tried to get as close to Snape as possible and only the firm grip on his shoulders held him on the chair as he flailed around without any grace or coordination.
His blinding need couldn't even embarrass him anymore. Whatever shame he might feel by his frantic movements and needy gasps could wait. "Snape?" he muttered between kisses. "Lubricant!"
He'd lost his own wand somewhere around yanking Snape's trousers open and was not about to waste any time looking for it on the floor. Or going to the bedroom to get the bottle. Snape probably had something appropriate right here.
Allowing the snort escape, Snape pointed his wand towards the small potions cupboard and muttered the charm that brought a jar full of the pale cream to him. He placed his wand on the chair, close enough to grab it if he needed it, but away from Harry's flailing limbs.
"Good." Yes, it was one of the perks of being involved with a Potions master, they'd always have slippery ointments. Harry smiled happily as he dug into the jar. This would do just fine.
His hands were slippery, spreading the cream all over Snape and ignoring the way he managed to let some of it drop on the chair as well. They could clean later. This was important right now, more important than anything in the world.
"Give me that." Realizing that Harry was far too frantic to get anything done correctly, Snape took the lubricant away from him. "What do you want?"
Harry was glad he'd asked. "This." His still slippery hands went to Snape's erection. "In me." That would have to do, he was incapable of any coherent instructions, and he hoped Snape wouldn't be evil enough to ask for more specific details. It would probably make Harry explode with need.
Fortunately for him, Snape didn't feel like asking more questions. The blatant need in Harry was contageous, burning in his veins. Pulling the eager body closer, he moved to prepare him.
It was so good, just what Harry wanted right now. He spread his legs wider, holding onto Snape like he was his only lifeline. He had missed this, missed the closeness and the touches, the scent of Snape's skin, the faint memory of potions ingredients always clinging to him.
Being unable to touch or taste him had been awful, these past few days a pure torment.
This was the opposite. Bliss. Moving against Snape's touches, Harry leaned forward to nibble his neck, urging him to go faster with soft gasps. He was ready, more than ready, and wanted to feel Snape inside him.
Snape wiped his hand on the ruins of his robe and then grabbed Harry's hips. He didn't have to say anything, Harry was already moving into a better position, straddling him properly. Halting for just a moment, Snape caressed the soft skin under his fingers, reveling in the anticipation. Allowing the desire coil in his belly before guiding Harry down.
A hiss escaped Harry as he lowered himself on Snape, feeling the hardness claim him. He tried to impale himself with one thrust, but the firm grip on his hips held tight, forcing him to take Snape in agonizingly slowly.
He sat still as he felt the fullness inside him. Snape's hands were once again moving slowly on his skin, touching his back, tracing patterns on his sides.
"Oh fu..." Harry clamped his mouth shut before the expletive could escape. Squeezing his eyes shut, he muttered frantically, "Wait! Snape, wait." He was going to come in seconds if he moved right now.
Snape didn't say anything, but his expression spoke volumes.
Wrapping his arms around Snape's neck, Harry lifted himself slowly, sinking back down with an undulating motion.
There was no finesse in their movements. Too lost in the need, Harry simply clung to Snape and rocked against him, planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.
It made perfect sense to Snape; the desperation to touch someone even after such a relatively short time. The stubborn idiot was still clinging to the notion that they were somehow having a relationship, and even though there had to be dozens of others proposing to their big hero, Harry had clearly chosen not to take any of their offers.
Such a Gryffindor thing, or a teenage thing; seeing the world so simply, in terms of loyalty and hope and trust, but it did somehow make sense, even to Snape.
So it resulted in a very naked and frantic Harry Potter attacking him, moving erratically so that he had to grab his hips and guide him into a smoother rhythm that made him gasp for breath as if he was drowning. Snape couldn't resent that. Even with his haste, there was something incredible honest in Harry's obvious hunger.
He brought Harry back down, harder than before, the urgency burning somewhere in his belly driving amusement and control away.
Harry let out a pleased groan.
The grip on his hips was firm but not bruising. Harry clutched onto Snape's arms as he felt him lift him up. Feeling the strong muscles work under his touch, Harry couldn't keep silent, muttering nonsense words.
Snape stared into the green eyes that were focused on his face, seeing desire and affection shine there with equal force.
"Damn I've missed you." It came out as a desperate moan as Harry lowered himself on him again. The movement was slow, almost pained, just like the sound escaping him. "Missed... you..."
The words touched something inside Snape; a small memory of hurt he'd never acknowledged before. Harry's insane need for his touch was just as captivating as the frantic movements.
He let his fingers loosen their hold on Harry's hips, allowing him to move faster. Harry's gaze soon lost its focus, growing distant and dark at the same time.
"Snape, Snape, Snape..." Harry moaned the name over and over again, his head lolling down, lips brushing against Snape's neck. Nothing in the world mattered right now, everything beyond this grinding motion had ceased to exist.
Snape shuddered at the desperate sounds Harry was making, his hips jerking up hard. The desire coursing through him was different from the simple pleasure of their previous encounters. Meeting Harry's thrusts with his own, he let the passion build on its own course, not even trying to hold onto control anymore.
The frantic movements should have been hilarious, just like the way Harry's chin hit his nose when he tried to kiss him. But he didn't care about appearances.
All that mattered was Harry's body slamming against his, all the nonsense words turning into sobs gasped out against his ear.
This was not going to last long.
Lost in the waves of pleasure, Harry clung onto Snape, feeling Snape's breath caress his neck as he came and then catch as Snape shuddered beneath him.
Harry's mind was totally empty. Everything was a haze of pure contentment and all he could do was to trail his fingers up Snape's chest, marveling at the wetness there. His semen on Snape's skin, Snape's hands still on his hips, his own harsh breathing the only real sound in the room.
He leaned closer to Snape, holding him as tight as possible. A moment later Snape's arms came to embrace him; not pushing him away, simply holding him there.
This was awfully close to perfect happiness.
Voice still hoarse, Harry muttered, "Really missed you." He nuzzled against Snape, smiling slightly as he felt the strong arms tighten around him. He didn't mind the silence, knowing that there would be no reply.
"I may have noticed your absence as well," Snape managed to say calmly. Encouraging or not, it was the truth.
Harry tensed. He couldn't believe his ears. Had Snape just said that out loud, or was it a figment of his imagination? He managed to lift his head for long enough to look into Snape's eyes and then nuzzled against his neck again, satisfied that he'd heard right. Closing his eyes, he let out a satisfied hum. "That's nice." Perfection indeed.
They sat there for a moment. Then Snape took a deep breath. It was getting late and they would have a long day tomorrow. As pleasant as this was, he couldn't ignore the fact that he had work to do. Squirming a bit, he tried to get the young man realize he wanted him to get up.
Harry refused to let go. "No." He felt wonderfully relaxed, and was not going to move until he absolutely had to.
Not exactly what Snape had in mind. "Get up, Potter." He fidgeted a little, frowning as Harry's grip on him tightened. It was clear he wouldn't be able to get up without some co-operation. "I do not intend to stay here for the whole evening when there is a perfectly good bed in the bedroom. Now get off me, so we can shower and then sleep."
There was a small protesting sound coming from Harry, but eventually he did let go. He still refused to let Snape out of his sight, following him to the bathroom and squeezing next to him in the shower stall.
Snape couldn't really shove him out all naked and messy, so he allowed the intrusion.
Just like he allowed Harry to wash his back -- logical, really, since he couldn't reach everything by himself -- and then join him in his bed later on. This way Harry would actually get a full night's sleep, curled against him and snoring softly.
Neither mentioned the time nor the crowd still probably waiting for their great hero in the Great Hall.
