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| THE LIGHT ENTHRALLED BY THE DARKNESS | | | | | | | | |
| Chapter 17 - "Intoxication" | | | | We'll be grateful for any review. It's really hard work with translation (there are four people who are working on translation of every chapter, because we want everything to be perfect and exactly like in the original polish version) and we really need your support and comments here or on our liverjournal (http://arielgobuss.livejournal.com/)
Translation: Severus_divides_into_H
Beta Reader: Ailslin Avalbane
17. Intoxication
You give me the reason.
You give me control.
I gave you my Purity.
My Purity you stole.
Did you think I wouldn't recognize this compromise.
Am I just too stupid to realize.
Stale incense old sweat and lies lies lies*
Hidden under his Invisibility Cloak, Harry silently walked the corridors of Hogwarts, heading towards the dungeons. Many thoughts and memories were swirling around in his head.
On Thursday, when Harry and his friends had been writing essays on History of Magic and Potions in the library, Hermione had discovered a large, dusty book, which turned out to be a school chronicle, with the list of all students attending Hogwarts over the centuries. They could see photos of young Tom Riddle, Lucius Malfoy, Ron and Harry's parents. Even of Dumbledore and McGonagall as teens. Ron, seeing a photo of his Head of the House in youth, couldn't resist and had even whistled in admiration "She was a nice chick!", for which Hermione'd given him a haughty, murderous gaze. But the most remarkable finding for Harry'd been seeing pictures of young Snape, at which Ron hadn't hesitated to throw a stream of malicious comments and insults. He remembered him from the pensieve, but seeing him again, with opportunity to look thoroughly, had made Harry completely forget about studying and discover that, despite the greasiness of untidy hair falling over his eyes - It was greasy then, indeed, he thought, or gave the same impression like now - and sullen face, Severus had been a very handsome young man. His eyes had shone with a strange, mysterious glow, and the derisive grin contorting his face seemed to convey to everyone a subtle: "I despise you all."
Harry had smiled to himself. Severus had probably always been like that ... But the date of birth appearing under the photo had attracted his attention the most. With surprise he'd realized that Snape had a birthday in two weeks. He’d be thirty seven.
Harry's heart had pounded when he'd been suddenly struck by that huge age difference. He had never thought about it before, it hadn't mattered at all for him. But in that moment, knowledge that his lover was older than him by twenty one years had made him sit for a minute dismayed, ashamed and ... aroused. Severus was an experienced, mature man, and Harry... well, he was only a teenager barely entering adulthood. In addition, Snape was his teacher. But it didn't make him feel uncomfortable, no, it only fueled his burning desire. He was doing something forbidden, and it was ... exciting.
But it wasn't the most important thing. Harry often wondered what was attracting him in the Potions Master. Several times it seemed to him that he had discovered the truth, but later his own feelings disproved it again, and after all he still didn't know why he couldn't stop thinking about him. Severus was a cold, unfeeling person, firm, strong, mysterious, unpredictable. He didn't think of Harry like the rest of the Wizarding World; didn't look at him as the hero, didn't play up to him or indulge him. And yet he seemed to understand him. They didn't talk much, but Harry believed that he could tell Severus everything - about his weaknesses, his fears. And Severus would understand it. And, unlike the others, he wouldn't pat him on the back and say those empty, meaningless words "Everything will be fine, don't worry." He would tell Harry off, perhaps even comment in his typical, mischievous, sarcastic way, or bark at him to stop feeling pity for himself and to grow up, but... he would understand.
Besides, Severus was ... was ... Harry didn't know how to specify it. This man was fleeing, pushing and slipping away from him. He was giving something, and when Harry was beginning to enjoy, he was taking it back. And Harry, ravenous and insatiable, was following him to get it back again. Like a thirsty person in the desert to whom someone suggested a glass full of crystal, clear water, and when he had one sip, took it away. As a child who was tempted by candy. When he tried a sweet, he wanted more - so he was following the one who gave it to him in hopes that he would be able to taste it again, and maybe someday, eventually, would get it wholly. And then, he would be happy.
But now, to get the candy, the child began to rebel, began to make terms, fight, speak up because of having discovered that the candy belonged to him ... and he had every right to it.
So Harry wasn't going to step back today. He was filled with confidence. If Snape didn't learn the lesson, he would not hesitate to flunk him.
He smiled to himself, pleased with his own plan.
After having arrived, Harry knocked. The doors opened before him and led him into the private chambers of the Potions Master. The room was wrapped in silence, lit only with a few candles and flickering glow of the fire. Snape was sitting in his favorite chair, waiting for him. Before him, on the table, there were a few bottles. When Harry came closer, he could read their names: Whisky, Gin, Rum, Martini.
His eyebrows went up.
"You want to get me drunk, Severus?" he asked with amusement. "And then have your way with me?"
"We are both well know that I wouldn't need alcohol for that," the man calmly replied, gazing at Harry intently. Harry, despite his efforts, couldn't stop the soft blush rising on his cheeks. Soon, however, he silently swore.
No, it was he who would win today!
Harry threw aside his Invisibility Cloak with the decision that if he didn't get what he wanted now, he would leave. He knew that a pleasant evening spent together would be endangered, and he would damn well regret it, but he couldn't break and capitulate now. Because in that case he would never get what he strove for, what he desired. He knew that there were many things that Snape couldn't share with him, but that which he wanted this time could be given, and he decided to get it today.
He walked over to Snape with an innocent face, hugged him around the neck and sat sideways on his lap. He could tell that Snape was holding his breath and felt him stiffen like a board, momentarily, but didn't comment on it. Harry saw an expression of irritation on Snape’s face, but decided not to pay attention to it.
He snuggled his face into the man’s collarbone and sighed:
"I missed you, Severus."
Harry knew he wouldn't receive any reply to that, so after a few moments of silence, in which the only sound in the room was a crackling fire and their breaths, he whispered:
"Could you hug me?"
He froze with his heart beating firmly, waiting for a reaction or response. A moment later the second one came.
"You came here just to joke?" perceptible sarcasm in Snape's voice made Harry sigh heavily, but he tried a second time. He moved closer and repeated his request:
"Hug me, Severus."
This time the answer came a little faster.
"What's bitten you, Potter?" the man growled.
Harry's heart pounded. He became angry. It was the last attempt. He didn't want to leave, he longed to stay with him, but he couldn't let it go.
Harry broke away from Snape and, looking straight into the man’s eyes, he narrowed his suspiciously and said in a firm voice:
"I want you to hug me."
The expression of irritation appeared on the Potions Master's face.
"Enough of this, Potter! Immediately cut the nonsense!" he hissed.
Harry felt that he had lost. One more time, he had a sense of hopelessness. Would he ever succeed in winning what he wanted? He began to lose hope of that, but he couldn't change his decision. He must do what had been planned. Apparently Snape needed another lesson...
Harry looked down and shook his head sadly, unable to stop the sorrow in his voice when he said softly:
"I have to go. I have a lot of studies... "
He moved away, wanting to get off the man's laps. He would return to his dormitory. He would be cursing Snape, himself, his resolve and the Potions Master's stubbornness. He would spend this evening alone, imagining how wonderful it would have been if he hadn't wanted to do the impossible and force Snape to hug him.
And then he felt arms wrap around him, strongly, and pull him back and press him to the body in black.
The surprise quickly gave way to great joy and relief. He smiled, pressing his cheek to Snape's neck and sighed deeply. Severus had really hugged him! It was... unbelievable! Just yesterday it might have seemed impossible, and today he’d managed to fight it!
Snuggled in Severus' arms, Harry wondered what else he would be able to get if he was more obstinate? It was possible that, perhaps, with time ... everything. Suddenly he felt strong and confident, and the flood of opportunities opened before his eyes. It was a small step, and a long way was probably still lying before him, but it was worth it! Maybe, with each time, steps would become bigger and bigger ... And he would finally reach his goal ... Severus' heart.
He sighed again when Snape's hands let him go, and Harry could straighten. The man's facial expression could be determined only in one word - annoyance. But Harry still couldn't stop the smile of victory.
"Severus, you hugged me," he said with a fake surprise. He watched as the man's face changed, his eyes flickered with desire for murder.
"If you are going to cry, Potter, I do not vouch for myself," he hissed, trying to get out of the whole incident with face saved.
A face that right now resembled a thunderstorm cloud.
Harry barely restrained from giggling.
"And now, will you finally get off me and sit in another chair?" Snape snarled, piercing the Gryffindor with a sharp look.
Harry left the man's laps and, relaxed, sank into a chair, trying not to show too much of his satisfaction. He didn't want to irritate Severus. He wanted to spend a pleasant evening with him.
"What do you want to drink?" Snape asked, opening whiskey and pouring himself a glass of amber liquid.
"Errr... " Harry mumbled, looking in embarrassment at the drinks. He had never tried anything like that: butter beer could be hardly called alcohol. "Choose something for me," he said, ashamed of his inexperience. Snape looked at him scornfully, but refrained from comment. He chose a Martini and poured the transparent, pearl drink into Harry's glass. The Gryffindor took the drink in hand, gazed at it curiously for a moment, and then tried it. The drink was sweet, with a subtle bitter note, and a warmth that spilled over his body. He felt hot, and his cheeks flushed. Accustomed to drinking butter beer rather quickly, he emptied the whole glass at once and, with a blushed face, looked at Snape with shining eyes.
"Gooood," he said in a dreamy voice.
Snape quickly put a glass to his mouth, as if trying to refrain from snorting with laughter. He didn't protest when Harry poured himself another portion. Calmly sipping whiskey, he was watching the Gryffindor's actions.
Harry was feeling more and more relaxed. The heat flowing down his throat and spreading through his body seemed to wash away his problems, his fears and his embarrassment. He felt like he could do anything, even something completely impossible! He looked at his second half-empty glass and smiled. It reminded him of the potion which they had been brewing recently.
"Is this something in the nature of Felix Felicis?" he asked curiously, looking at the bottle standing in front of him on the table. "I feel like I’m in a ... much better mood."
"No," Snape said quietly, "this is much better and more effective than Felix Felicis."
"I wish I could have a bottle of this in a dormitory," Harry chuckled. "I would be sipping it every night."
"And what kind of problems do nag you at night, Potter?" Snape said with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, there are a lot of them, but I can't tell you because they are too personal," the Gryffidor said, pouring himself a third glass.
Snape was watching his progress calmly, but the black eyes were shining more and more.
"I would like to know something about you, Severus," Harry said, leaning back in the chair and thrusting a feverish look at the man. "We are just fucking. Can't we talk to each other at least once?"
Snape's eyebrows went up. Seeing this, Harry frowned for a moment and looked at his glass. Why did he say that? Did Snape put something in his drink again? Before the man had time to answer, Harry again blurted out:
"I mean... I didn't mean that I don't like it, but sometimes I just want to know you better. I know nothing about you. Tell me something about yourself," Harry reiterated, surprised by his torrent of words. He had always been rather reticent, but now he felt like someone had loosened his tongue, and thoughts that had been tormenting him began to flow out of his mouth without his will and he couldn't stop it!
"And what would you like to know about me, Potter?" Snape said patiently, taking a small sip of his whisky.
"Well ... For example, what were you like when younger? Yesterday I saw your picture from when you were in school. Were you really such a snooping, sarcastic bastard that everyone thought you were?"
Snape raised an eyebrow.
" 'Everyone', that is, your father and his gang?"
Harry hesitated.
"And this is ... not everyone?" he asked uncertainly. Seeing Severus' facial expression, he realized that that subject was too prickly to raise it, but he didn't know how to get out of it.
"If you are going back to idealize your miserable father, Potter, then we do not have anything to talk about," the man growled menacingly.
Harry quickly resigned from the topic. He didn't want to end up in a quarrel.
"Do you like to teach here?" he asked in a carefree tone, trying to somewhat appease the Potions Master.
Snape glowered at him, but said:
"It would be even nicer if students had brains."
"That's because you treat us so … " Harry resigned from that subject as well, despite feeling a swell of pride. The look on Snape’s face did not appear a favorable one. "It's ... what do you do in your free time? When you don't need to check on homework, or make up the most difficult, unannounced test?" he couldn't help it.
Snape gave him a menacing look.
"I have no free time, Potter. And even if it happens that I'm not busy, then I'm tormented by an extremely annoying, importunate teenager."
Something boiled up in Harry.
"If you don't want to talk to me, then I can go," he spat, jumping up from his chair. At the same time he felt dizzy. He staggered and fell back. Once again he looked at the glass in his hand. What was in that drink that didn't allow him to move normally?
"If you are over with this show, can we move to something more important?" Snape said tartly.
"Not yet," Harry protested. He was wondering about possible questions. He had to find something safe. He looked at Snape gazing at him up from his whiskey, and asked:
"Is your favorite color black?"
Seeing man's face, he immediately realized how ridiculous it had sounded, and fell silent. But what could he ask? As soon as he tried to pull an answer out of Snape, he immediately regretted that he'd spoken at all. The fact that the man didn't show any willingness to cooperate also didn't help.
"Well, what else can I ask you?" he blurted out finally, annoyed.
"Nothing is the best option," Snape said quietly, his eyes twinkled. "The less you know about me, the better."
"Oh, I forgot. After all, you so like your mystery," the Gryffindor retorted before he could bite his tongue.
Snape's eyes flashed with anger. Harry quickly finished his third glass and reached for the bottle.
"Put an end of those nonsensical, idiotic questions," Snape drawled.
Harry looked at him with a fierceness, picking up the fourth portion.
"They are not nosen... none... Well, you know what I mean! I need to know something about you, since we intend to be a couple."
Snape's eyebrows nearly touched the hair line.
"A couple?" he asked, surprised, emphasizing each syllable. "What are you talking about, Potter? We are not and never will be a couple. There is no "us". It's just me and a horny, controlled by hormones, running after me like a puppy teenager."
Harry winced. That was too much! The fuse was set on fire, and a few things lacked to make a real explosion.
"It's all your fault!" he spat. "You made me drink that potion! Since then, everything’s been turned upside down!"
"If I had known how it would end, I wouldn't have done that," Snape retorted.
There was an explosion. A powerful explosion that released frustration accumulated inside Harry:
"Oh! You regret it?! Well, it’s too late now! Maybe for you it's just a game, but for me it’s agony! You didn't have to hide from the whole school, spending days in bed, wrapped in an Invisibility Cloak so no one will attack you! You didn't have to listen to malicious, nasty comments about yourself, or see nasty pictures of yourself hanging on every possible surface of the Common Room! You didn't have to be ashamed, or deny yourself things or to run away! You were neither devastated, nor scared when you had discovered that it was all true, when you dreamed of me and masturbated, thinking about me! No, I'm sure you didn't! You didn't dream of my touch, you didn't dream of my eyes, you weren't thinking about me all the time, knowing that you would probably never touch me, or feel me, that you would never have me! And then you didn't suddenly get everything you'd dreamt of, and you didn't have it so abruptly, painfully taken away when you realized that you meant nothing to me! And you probably never would ... No, you didn't go through it all! You don't know how it is... " he stopped as his voice faltered, and looked down, taking a few big sips from the glass, to calm his aching nerves. He glanced at Snape, expecting to see the sneering grimace on his face, but saw nothing of the sort. The Potions Master's face was very serious, maybe even a little ... shaken. "Well, why don't you laugh?" he asked bitterly. "Go right ahead. I endured so many things that it wouldn't make much difference."
"I had no such intention," said the man in a calm, controlled voice. He looked as if he was wondering about something, and after a long, silent minute he asked "Is this what bothers you at night, Potter? Or is there something else?"
Alcohol circulating in Harry's veins helped him to calm down. He didn't expect that Snape would want to continue this, but on the other hand the boy was glad. He was relieved that he had thrown it all out there on the table, but it'd been a real Pandora's box which shouldn't have been opened. Maybe someday, when he would be able to think straight ... For now, he felt like each sip was making him more and more intoxicated. His head was spinning, despite the fact that he didn't get up. The world, along with Snape, was whirling around him. Harry blinked a few times, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
"What did you ask me?" he said, putting his glasses back on and looked with suspicion at his glass.
"We were talking about your dream," Severus replied smoothly.
"Oh yes," Harry mumbled. "It was horrible."
"What was so horrible?" the man asked insistently.
Harry waved his hand.
"That dream about blood and Death Eaters." The Gryffindor frowned, remembering the details. He felt like it had been centuries ago he’d dreamt it. "Voldemort was in it, too. They were standing all around, laughing at me, and I was naked and there was blood everywhere. It was flooding over me, I couldn't breathe. Voldemort said something about ... a feast? I think so. I was afraid I couldn't do anything. I wanted to call you through the stone, but I didn't have it. It was taken with my clothes. And then I heard ... your voice. You said …” Harry hesitated and looked at Snape. He was surprised at seeing Snape had leaned forward and was staring at him with such rapt attention, as if Harry's dream was the most interesting thing in the world.
"What did I say?" he asked with a tension in his voice, his eyes almost piercing Harry.
"You said... that this time no one would save me," Harry finished, a bit surprised by Severus’ behavior, who, after these words, turned pale. His eyes even flickered with ... fear.
"What happened?" the Gryffindor asked hesitantly.
The man turned his head and looked into the fire.
"Have you ever had similar dreams?" he asked instead of answering.
"No, just this once. Anyway, you don't need to fear for me, Severus. It was only a dream," he said blithely, as if he had forgotten about his own dismay. Now, however, all these worries and troubles seemed to him too remote and void. He didn't want to fill his head with them. He was here with Snape. More specifically, he was drinking alcohol with Snape, talking with him nicely, and everything was fine. Harry looked at his empty glass, and then at the Potions Master's, filled to brim. He wondered what Snape’s drink tasted like? Swaying, Harry rose from his chair and reached for a bottle of whiskey. Unfortunately, alcohol circulating in his veins made it impossible. His head spun so much when he stood up that his hand missed the bottle, he staggered and fell on a coffee table, knocking over everything and finally landing on the floor on his ass. He shook himself, confused, just to hear Severus' angry growl at that time:
"I see you're unable to hold your liquor just like you're unable to hold a talent for something apart from sowing chaos and destruction."
Harry heard Snape magically set the bottles back and clean his clothes. He crawled on his knees to the chair and climbed up into it. He thought everything was very funny. Chuckling, he looked at infuriated Snape and blurted out:
"You gave me alcohol, so it's your fault. Besides, I have many hidden talents you don't know about," he said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes, the talent to break the rules, smart off, stick your nose into other people's business, ask stupid questions, to use others... " Snape enumerated caustically, and Harry felt anger growing with each word.
"Stop it!" he interrupted him. "I hate when you treat me like that! You offend, humiliate, and mock me. Why do you do that? Sometimes you look at me with desire and, just to a minute later, yell at me and rag me. And when you do that I feel like you hate me ... Why are you so mean to me?"
"If you haven't noticed, I'm mean to everyone, Potter," Snape replied smoothly. "The fact that I fuck you doesn't mean that I will make an exception for you."
Harry frowned. Another sarcastic remark thrown in face. It hurt.
"You could, sometimes, be a little nicer ... " he muttered, looking at the bottles standing on the table.
"I could be a little nicer, if you would be a little wiser," Snape replied calmly.
Harry jerked his head violently.
"Hey! I'm not that stupid!"
"Mmm, this response has really convinced me. Maybe, after all, I will change my mind about your mental abilities," Snape seemed to have a great fun. The smirk played on his thin lips .
"Are you mocking me?" asked the Gryffindor grumpily.
"Excellent, Potter! You are getting better. Maybe soon I will even start to consider you as a thinker."
Harry winced, but he didn't want to be embroiled in his game any longer. This time he wouldn't be provoked!
"You can mock me as much as you want, but I still think that you should show me a little more affection. Sometimes I feel like you’re made of nothing but ice.."
Snape immediately became serious, and an expression of irritation appeared on his face.
"If you are looking for tenderness, then you won't find it in me, Potter. And if you don't like it, then I suggest you find yourself someone who will give it to you."
These words kindled the fire of rebellion in Harry.
"Maybe I really should do it?" he growled. "Certainly there would be a few people who would like to give it to me... "
Harry saw the surprise on Snape's face, but it was covered very quickly with scoffing and derisive mask.
"If so, then what are you doing here with me?"
Right. What was he doing here?
Harry jumped up from his chair, intending to leave, but before he could regain his balance in that swaying and undulating strange world, he heard a sharp, commanding voice of the Potions Master:
"Sit down immediately!"
Harry fell back on the chair - not because Snape had told him to, but because he was still unable to go anywhere.
"Let me explain one thing, Potter," the Potions Master said menacingly, thrusting a piercing gaze at him. "If you even try to look at someone, I'll have to punish you severely."
Something clicked in Harry's head. He looked at Snape with amazement mixed with incredulity.
"You’re jealous," he whispered fervently, unable to stop the smile spreading over his lips. "You are crazy about me, Severus."
The look which the man had given him could cut glass.
"One more word, Potter, and I will gag you," he hissed through his teeth.
But Harry was already in another world. A world in which Severus was crazy about him, in which they were both living in peace and happiness, making love passionately and calling each other by name.
"You can’t fool me," he said conspiratorially. "When you’re taking me, I see desire in your eyes. And I know that you love it," he leaned over to Severus, thrusting the burning gaze at him. "We have already done it in the cupboard, in the classroom on a desk, and in the armchair in your chambers ... Maybe now we should do it on the table in the Great Hall? Or on Dumbledore's desk? Fancy that ... " Harry chuckled at the thought of what face the Headmaster would have if he caught one of his teachers fucking a student in his own office.
However, the Potions Master wasn't amused. He glanced at Harry thoughtfully, and then said:
"I think you drank just enough to what I have planned to do... "
Harry stopped giggling and looked at him with interest:
"And what are you planning?" he asked.
Snape looked as though, for a moment, he was wondering about the answer, then narrowed his eyes and, carefully looking at Harry, said:
"If you have to know ... I plan to kill you, Mr. Potter."
Harry thought for a moment. Immediately, he saw the flaw in that plan.
"You can't do it," he said. "You’ll have no one to fuck!"
This time Snape looked as though, after a moment of surprise, he was refraining from snorting with laughter.
"You are really self-confident, Mr. Potter," he whispered mysteriously.
Harry didn't like the tone, and the gleam in his eyes.
"You won't fuck anyone else!" he spat. "You mine alone! I was the one who found you! Only I will fulfill all your fantasies!"
Snape looked as if carefully considering this proposal.
"My fantasies? Mmm ... Every fantasy?" he asked, looking closely at Harry.
A horrifying thought crept into the mind of the Gryffindor. He widened his eyes and stammered out, embarrassed:
"Do you want to be fuc... "
Snape gave him a look that would make flowers wither, Neville run away screaming, and Harry burn in hellfire.
"Don't finish, if you value your life," he hissed in an icy voice.
Harry didn't understand what he meant. Maybe it'd go better if he had a drink again...
He reached for the bottle, but Snape quickly pulled out his wand and sent all the drinks back to the shelf.
"Enough of the alcohol already, Potter," he said, ignoring the Gryffindor's pouting face.
"But I like your alcohol ... " Harry protested. "I like your chair. .. I also like your potions ... I like your robes ... I like your moaning ... and I also like you, Severus."
He heard Snape murmur to himself:
"Drunk Potter ... I got what I wanted."
But he didn't pay attention. He smiled at Snape and said:
"Severus ... call me "Harry". You never speak to me like that."
"And I'm not going to start," Snape spoke through clenched teeth, sending the boy next to him a murderous look.
"No?" Harry frowned for a moment. "Than maybe you could say it in phrase: ‘Harry Potter likes me?’"
"Potter!" Snape looked as though he had finally lost his patience. "Shut up!" he got up and threw a burning look at Harry. "Come with me."
The Gryffindor rose and teetered for a moment, trying to regain his balance. Snape was standing in the middle of the room, waiting for him.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, taking a cautious step. Severus didn't answer him. When Harry approached him, he walked towards the door leading to the bedroom. The boy followed him, trying not to pay attention to the fact that everything was swaying around him, and that the earth was vanishing under his feet. He was so focused on trying not to tip over anything that didn't pay any attention to where they were heading. Only when he saw a large bed before him, covered with a black linen, he understood where he'd been brought. Before he could do anything, he heard the crack of the door behind him and the dark, commanding voice of Snape:
"Undress and lie down."
Hands without awareness went to his shirt and began to laboriously unfasten buttons, which seemed to escape from under his fingers. He felt he was being watched, but it didn't bother him. His mind was a whirl of fogged, vague thoughts, tangled and mixed with each other. He felt so intoxicated that now he would do anything Snape'd demand without objections. He would even get on the table and start dancing! Everything he was doing seemed so... clear to him. So normal. He sat on the bed and took off his trousers, shoes and socks.
There was a soft flicker of light in the room created by only a few candles. Snape was standing in the shadows and Harry could barely see him. Actually, he may as well have been alone in here. When he was completely naked though, he looked with a smile at the figure lurking in shadows and said:
"Well, yes, I did forgot that we haven't done it on a bed yet."
He giggled, but was immediately interrupted by Severus’ sharp voice:
"I told you to lie down!"
Harry obeyed. He pulled himself to the center of the bed and lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling which appeared to be spinning wildly. He blinked a few times, wishing it would stop, but it didn't listen.
"And now, Potter," Snape's voice seemed to him much closer and darker, "show me how you masturbated when you were thinking about me."
In Harry's mind, there didn't flash even a glimmer of a thought of not doing what Severus had asked him. Not even a note of the opposition. The image of the black eyes from his dreams came to his mind, and now he knew that those eyes were watching him, waiting to be given something that, for Harry, was a very personal experience. Why couldn't he resist it?
He touched his warm cock with his fingers and took it in his hand. He closed his eyes, sinking into the memory while being aware of the fact that this memory of his was now real, and it was standing before him, watching him intently. He began to move his hand, slowly at first, carefully examining the texture of his cock, pulling the foreskin painfully and teasing his testicles with the other hand. The initially soft and inert cock quickly succumbed to the touch and hardened. The boy moaned softly, feeling the arousal coming from his lower abdomen, growing with faster and faster strokes of his hand. Why was it so easy to imagine that this hand belonged to Severus? To intensify the experience, he began to rub the head of his cock - the most sensitive, delicate place. He pinched it with his fingers and clutched it tightly, then shifted his hand down sharply, pulling back the foreskin and causing the explosion of thousand sparks under his eyelids. He didn't know when he had started to moan. His body was ripped out of control, and stretching muscles made him arch in all directions. Harry dug his feet into the bed, straining, wishing to reduce the fever torturing him, to release the tension accumulating in the lower part of his body. Hot and cold shivers were alternately flowing through his body, and his lungs began to run out of air. He pressed his head and his feet into the bed and lifted his hips, moving his hand at dizzying speed. Now he not only felt eyes piercing him but, within his mind appeared the severe, supercilious face of the Potions Master, on who’s face played a sarcastic smirk. His dark eyes glittered feverishly through thin locks of black hair falling over them, and the fire burning in them was turning Harry's will and mind to ashes. The hand moving up and down his cock no longer belonged to him. He imagined they were Severus’ long, slender fingers emanating a pleasant coolness as they tightened on it. A long, lustful and needy moan escaped his mouth:
"Oooh, Severus... "
Then he heard a rustle and creak, as if someone got on the bed. He felt the mattress around his hips bend and sag under the pressure of someone's weight. He opened his eyes and saw a dark silhouette leaning over him. His vision became a reality. Severus emerged directly from his dreams, he was with him, over him, and his eyes were burning with so strong a desire and hunger that Harry's heart nearly stopped.
"Don't stop," Severus whispered hoarsely when the boy's hand froze. Harry swallowed and began to move his hand again, as he felt his legs being raised. Then, everything exploded in a blaze of sensations and emotions when the hard, turgid cock of the Potions Master broke into his interior. He screamed in pain and surprise! It seemed that Snape had completely lost control over himself! He was entering Harry quickly, strongly and sharply, regardless of his cries, and the apparent desire on Severus’ face turned into a wild lust which had apparently been struggled and restrained for a very long time, and was now finally allowed an outlet.
The Gryffindor dug the nails of his left hand into bed sheets while continuing to squeeze his cock with the other. He didn't need it now, but apparently Snape liked it, and Harry tried not to stop. Severus' strength and wildness were making the boy almost squeal, his consciousness had been transformed into a melted, shapeless mass, whining about getting more. Pain also very quickly succumbed to the consuming fire of bodies rubbing against each other, then ebbed, being replaced by the rapture and desire coterminous almost with the obsession that was pushing them further and further into itself. Severus was breathing hard and pressing Harry into the bed, pushing at him with all his weight while he was entering him rapidly, strongly and deeply, as if to forever leave his mark in the boy. Through his fogged glasses and the stars exploding under the eyelids, Harry saw the man's face, lost in pleasure, flushed and strained with effort, framed by hair that was scattered and sweat-soaked. What made Harry stop for a moment within the raging storm of senses, were the wild, misty, aggressive eyes Severus had on him, which were piercing Harry's face with such intensity, as if to destroy him, turn him to ash, penetrate him even deeper and burn a mark which would be impossible to erase.
Yet another explosion of painful pleasure shook Harry's body and quickly led him to full out howling anguish which mingled with growls and groans issued by Severus. Snape entered him so deeply that almost every time he struck Harry's prostrate, the boy could only scream, twitch and wail, while still wanting more and more. And he got more!
Severus' thrusts became even more aggressive and violent, and just a long, monotonous moan was now coming out of Harry's mouth. All the muscles in his body tightened like the bowstrings. His whole body felt like burning embers that no one could extinguish. Harry, surprised, suddenly felt a huge, overwhelming explosion of pleasure in his abdomen. He grabbed Severus' by his robe, pulling him to himself, and came, moaning hoarsely in his chest. His body, shaken by spasms, was trembling uncontrollably, and muscles strained to the breaking point almost ached. When he fell back on the bed, weakened and even more intoxicated, his head was spinning so much that he almost couldn't see. He let Snape's robes fall from his grip and tried to catch his jerky, fleeting breath. At the same time he felt Severus slip out of him and his weight shift on the bed as he moved somewhere near Harry’s head on his knees. He heard a long groan of wild pleasure, and felt something hot, wet and sticky on his face. He opened his eyes abruptly, surprised, and saw a cock directed at him - red and wet from the cum spurting from it, landing on his face, and running down it. Harry opened his mouth in amazement and looked at Snape's face plunged into pleasure, expressing such delight that Harry had never seen before. Black eyes staring at him glittered feverishly with heat, and a crooked, dark smile was playing on his lips. Although he had just had an orgasm, the view of Severus coming before his eyes made Harry feel a great arousal which was revealed in his reddened cheeks, wheezing breath, and eyes shining with delight. Snape had apparently noticed it, because after having shaken the last drop of his cum on boy's face, he bent over him and, breathing hard, touched Harry's wet face with his hand. He gathered some cum with his fingers and put it between Harry's slightly parted and hungry lips. The boy, purring with pleasure, licked and swallowed all of that. When he opened his eyes, he saw satisfaction on Snape's face and a devilish glint in his eye.
"Do you want more?" the hushed, dark voice asked. Harry nodded, licking his lips. Severus' fingers spread his seed all over the boy's face, sopping it up and re-inserting them into his mouth, which was parted invitingly. Harry licked it thoroughly with his warm tongue, swallowing with great pleasure the bitter-salty liquid that seemed to him, at that moment, the sweetest, tastiest potion he had ever received from the Potions Master.
"You taste wonderful," he murmured softly, not taking his eyes from the intense, burning eyes of Severus’, who, after those words, bent over him and whispered:
"You are a little, kinky pervert," he smiled darkly and added: "Say it."
Harry hesitated. He didn't know that Snape liked to be called so, but since he asked for it himself...
"You are a little, kinky pervert," he repeated, smiling.
Snape blinked, surprised.
"You, Potter!" he barked sharply. "Not me!"
In Harry's mind something clicked.
"Oh, you could have told it before. If you had said "You are a little, kinky pervert, Harry," I would have known immediately that it was about me," he grinned. Before Snape could snarl anything in reply, Harry added with a disarming frankness: "Of course I am. That is why we fit each other so well."
It probably surprised Severus, because in his eyes flickered something indefinable and elusive. But Harry could swear that he saw relief there.
The man closed eyes and shook his head with a sigh:
"Dress, Potter. It's late, and we don't want your overprotective friends to run around the castle again, looking for you. When you are finished, wash your face and come to the living room," he stood up, buttoned his fly and left the room, leaving Harry alone in the dark, still smelling of heated sex. The Gryffindor was lying motionless for a moment, staring at the ceiling and smiling to himself with satisfaction. He didn't want to go. It was so nice to be here ... Why couldn't he stay with Snape? He felt so ... free here. No need to pretend or to hide. He could be himself.
No, Snape wouldn't have let him stay. If Harry insisted, Snape would throw him out anyway, and the boy didn't want this wonderful evening to end like that. He sighed and, struggling with dizziness, rose from the bed. A minute had passed before he managed to get dressed. He looked again at the black, tousled bed and sighed heavily. Stumbling, he walked to the open door leading to the bathroom, washed his face and returned to the living room, where Severus was waiting for him. The man handed him a glass filled with bluish, cloudy liquid.
"What is it?" the Gryffindor asked, taking a drink from him.
"Elixir to sober up, which temporarily alleviates the symptoms of alcohol. I cannot let you hang around the castle drunk," he answered smoothly.
Harry looked at the mixture. But why did he have to sober? He felt so nice. It was true that the whole world seemed to sway and spin, but he felt so free and relaxed. He felt that he could do anything. He didn't want this feeling to be taken from him.
"Drink!" Snape ordered, and Harry reluctantly swallowed the bitter, biting liquid. The feeling of relaxation disappeared, the pleasant mood burst like a soap bubble, taking the satisfaction and blissful serenity away and bringing tiredness, weakness, headache, fear, and ... shame instead.
Everything he had said and done today hit him with a sudden, powerful force, making him stagger and nearly fall. He had told Snape ... things ... He'd confessed all his feelings and concerns to him, he'd told him his most hidden and personal secrets ... Why had he done that?! And in addition ... in addition he'd masturbated in front of him! Oh shit! He'd really done it! And Snape had cumshot on his face and Harry had ... licked everything off, and he'd wanted more! How could he have behaved like that? What had made him do that? Why couldn't he resist? What had happened?
He felt his face burning. He looked down, staring at the floor, a huge wave of embarrassment and confusion took his pride and dignity away. Again, he felt humiliated and broken. What a shame! How could he look him in the face now? How could he tell him all that? It had belonged only to him! Snape hadn't had a right to know!
"It's really late," Harry muttered quietly. "Ron and Hermione are probably waiting for me... "
Not looking up, he began to search for his Invisibility Cloak, which was lying on the back of the armchair. But before he could approach it, he heard the sharp, commanding voice of Severus:
"Look at me, Potter."
Harry didn't react. He was standing with his back to Snape, staring at the floor, focusing on the shame and humiliation he felt. Again.
"What is it, Potter?" he heard the cool, ironic voice of the Potions Master. "After all, is there anything in this room you wouldn't like?"
Harry blushed even more, feeling that one more comment like that and he would burn up like a phoenix. He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak from the armchair and with the words:
"Goodnight," he wanted to get out of the room and run away as fast and as far as possible, when he was stopped by the Potion Master's voice:
"Potter!" Harry turned from the door, but wasn't able to lift his eyes. "I assure you that I will not tell anyone what I heard from you today." Harry lifted his head and looked at him with surprise, however, embarrassed, he immediately looked down again. Despite this, he had noticed that the man had a very serious expression on his face. "So you can sleep easy," finished Severus.
The Gryffindor nodded, somewhat dismayed, but grateful, then turned and was about to leave when he hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder and said with a faint smile:
"Thank you for this evening, Severus. It was really ... nice."
Snape couldn't help grimacing ironically. Harry smiled slightly.
"Goodnight," he repeated, and then left the room. But before he closed the door, he heard Snape's quiet reply:
"Goodnight, Potter."
You give me the anger.
You give me the nerve.
Carry out my sentence.
While I get what I deserve.
I'm just an effigy to be disgraced.
To be defaced.
Your need for me has been replaced.
And if I can't have everything well then just give me a taste.
It comes down to this. Your kiss.
Your fist. And your strain.
It get's under my skin. Within. Take in the extent of my sin.*
* "Sin" by Nine Inch Nails
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