38. Knowing me, knowing you

 

I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you*

 

"Take back something that's true, Potter?" the man mocked, clearly not caring about the boy's agitation. "Then I would be a liar. Surely you won't deny that you're a stuck-up brat whom brain has been so fuddled up by fame that he thinks everyone will fall at his feet?"

"Is that so? And you are a disgusting scoundrel who loves to take advantage of your position and humiliate others just to raise your self-esteem!"

Severus took a step towards him. His face looked like a darkened sky during a storm.

"At least I know my worth, Potter!" he hissed venomously. "Your worth lies on the floor with you as you spread your legs and beg for me to fuck you."

Harry's eyes widened. For a moment he was out of breath. How...? How could he even...? He lunged forward, wanting to hurt him, to hit him, to punish him for everything he had said.

Snape was faster, though. He grabbed his wrists and Harry could only struggle desperately and scream with rage.

"Shut up! I hate you!" he shouted, trying to pull his hands away, but the man held them so tightly that it caused him pain, which only fueled his anger. "I hate you, you buster! I don't want to look at you! I don't want to know you!"

"Be careful with your words, Potter. Gryffindor just lost twenty points. And you can hate me all you want, but it won't change the fact that..."

"Let me go! If I'm so annoying, why do you even let me come here? Throw me out and we'll both be happy and you won't get mad at me for any shit!"

"I would love to do it, but knowing you, after two days you will come back looking like a kicked puppy and on your knees begging me to take you back!"

"Shut up! I don't want to... Let me go!" The adrenaline flowing in his veins combined with the blood rushing to his head made Harry finally manage to pull his hands away, but instead of turning around, he lunged forward again and pushed the man with all his strength, forcing him to take several steps back to regain balance. Surprise flashed on Snape's face for a second, but it quickly turned into fury. "I don't want to look at you!" Harry shouted, turning and heading for the door. In front of his eyes he saw only red spots, he had the impression that all the blood in his veins had burned out and evaporated. "I never, ever want to listen to you again, I don't want to see you, I don't want to..." He stopped when he felt a strong magical hit on his back and he fell to the floor. He stopped on his elbows and knees and before he could make any movement, he felt the man's weight on him and the strong grip of his hand on his neck, pressing him to the floor.

"This may surprise you, Potter, but I really don't care what you want. The only thing that matters is what I want, and at this very moment I want to punish you and you can't even imagine how much I want it," the man hissed and Harry felt a breath of magic, cold, almost icy, and at the same moment his abdominal muscles spasmed painfully. He felt as if he had been hit by a powerful blow that had knocked the air out of his lungs. He groaned and grabbed his stomach with one hand while opening his mouth to catch his breath. And then he heard a sinister whisper right next to his ear "If you push me away again, the power of this spell will be tenfold."

Before Harry could react in any way, he felt another brush of magic that stripped him of his entire lower clothing.

"Leave me alone! You can't..." he began, feeling dizzy, constant crumps of his abdominal muscles and a painful throbbing in his temples. His heart jerked in his chest and he felt like he was on fire, and the heat spread throughout his body, even reaching parts of him that definitely shouldn't have reacted so enthusiastically in this situation.

"I cannot?" Snape made a sound as if he wanted to laugh. "Potter, we both know perfectly well that when it comes to you, I can do anything. You haven't forgotten that you belong only to me, have you? That you are my property? Looks like I'll have to remind you of that.

Harry bit his lip. He was furious after all. So why did his cock twitch at those words? And after a while he was almost completely hard? And as soon as he felt the man's penis entering him, all the heat he had felt in his chest accumulated in his lower abdomen?

He didn't think about it any longer, though, because his mind seemed to have evaporated. All he could hear was the slapping of buttocks against buttocks and a dark whisper just above him. "You are my property, Potter." The man grabbed Harry's hair and tilted his head back, pulling it towards him so that his mouth was a few millimeters from Harry's ear. "Repeat this."

And Harry repeated.

"I am your property."

He repeated and repeated each time Severus' thrusts hit his prostate. He also said a lot of other things. And things he wouldn't say in any other situation, not even if he was promised the Quidditch World Cup.

"Will you ever oppose me again, Potter?"

"Of course I will, you slimy bastard!"

This answer was "rewarded" by an extremely long and hard fucking, during which Harry almost tore his throat from screaming. Oh yes, he loved to provoke Snape. He loved making him furious and losing control of himself. And he loved his possessiveness. Possessiveness, strength and anger that gnawed at his loins and ignited every nerve in his body.

"Your impudent little provocateur," Severus breathed into his ear, thrusting into him with long, aggressive strokes, and Harry couldn't stop the tremble that voice made him feel.

There was nothing he could do about it. He knew he was doomed from the day he uttered those fateful words that still made his stomach churn: "I'm a dirty little whore..."

Because he was, indeed. In situations like this, when rage and anger turned into uncontrollable desire and all inhibitions were released. It was Snape who made him do this. And then he just smiled victoriously when he managed to subdue him once again. He was the reason Harry was turning into a simmering cyclone of conflicting emotions. Was it amusing him? Was he so addicted to lighting and stewing that fire that burned in his green eyes?

Apparently the word "addiction" in this case was just a euphemism.

This wasn't their first argument in recent days, but the first one so serious that ended in such an exceptionally, one might say, pleasant way. Harry spent almost every free moment with Severus, although the man no longer allowed him to sleep over at his place. However, during their first evening apart, just before falling asleep, something unusual happened.

Harry received a message from Severus.

Goodnight, Potter.

Harry lay in bed for a long time, wide awake, staring at the stone with wide eyes, unable to get over the shock. Only after several incredible theories and attempts to explain this phenomenon did he come to the conclusion that Snape had probably sent it to him so that Harry would not feel lonely at night and knew that he, Severus, was alive and safe. He felt a little stupid that the man thought he was a nervous kid who was afraid to fall asleep because of some nightmares, but on the other hand he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest. For the first time, Snape sent him the message Harry always used to send him, and even if he only did it that one time, it was extremely nice of him, if such a word could be used for Severus Snape.

Every day looked similar. Harry went down for breakfast in the morning, help Hagrid a little, wander around the castle or sit in the library, then go to dinner and then go with an armful of books to Snape's chambers, where he usually either studied while the man went about his business, either they were talking or fucking.

This last activity Harry liked the most. Even if their sex no longer resembled the one they had during the holidays. Snape took him fast and hard, as if he wanted to relieve the tension. Harry saw his desire, felt it very clearly as the man dug his fingers into his flesh with such force that he wanted to tear him apart and breathed words into his ear that brought him to orgasm almost immediately. He never stayed with him again after sex, but Harry didn't mind. What he'd received from the man that one night still enveloped his heart in a warm mist, and even when Severus was harsh and brutal to him, Harry still remembered his gentle touch.

During these few days, he was able to get to know exactly all the Potions Master's preferences. He learned, for example, that Severus liked it when Harry moaned his name during sex. He also liked it when, during sex from behind, Harry spread his entrance with his hands to give Severus a better view, while his face, deprived of support, was completely pressed into the mattress. He also liked it when Harry took him deep in his mouth, especially when he just opened his mouth and let Severus fuck it.

One day, when Harry was sitting in his armchair in front of the fireplace with a book on his knees and trying to understand what the conflict between the giants and centaurs from seven centuries ago was about, Snape surprised him. He approached him, and Harry, feeling a shadow on him, looked up and saw that the man was wordlessly unzipping his fly and taking out his pale, massive, half-hard penis. The boy blinked in surprise and, despite the fact that he had great difficulty taking his eyes off the cock sticking out invitingly towards him, he looked at Snape's face, waiting for any words. These didn't came, though. Severus simply walked up to him, pushed the textbook aside and pulled his head towards his erection. Harry accepted this warm, tasty flesh without resistance. Severus must have been particularly horny that day because he almost raped Harry's mouth. Harry had trouble catching his breath several times, and at the very end, when the man's penis, red from the exertion, began to throb dangerously, the man took it out from Harry's mouth and, with a loud moan of pleasure, ejaculated on his face.

And he seemed to enjoy it immensely, too, because two days later he did it again. He took Harry from behind, and just before he finished, he turned Harry towards himself and let all the desire filling him settle in white streaks across Harry's face and glasses.

Severus also liked it when Harry masturbated in front of him. This was clearly demonstrated when Harry, while reading the latest issue of Quidditch in his armchair, heard a man's strangely tense voice. "Touch yourself."

Harry looked at him in surprise, wondering if he had heard correctly. Severus was sitting in his armchair with a glass of whiskey in his hand and stared at him with a slightly hazy gaze.

"What?"

"You've heard. Touch yourself, Potter."

"Here?"

"No, in the Great Hall. Of course here. Now." His eyes twinkled slightly and Harry felt the familiar tension in his lower abdomen.

He felt a little awkward, but Severus looked at him in such a way that all his doubts disappeared in less than a blink of an eye. He put the magazine aside and reached into his zipper. He unzipped it, then unbuttoned it and put his hand under his boxers.

"Now take it out slowly."

Harry bit his lip and did as he was told, watching the man's hazy, black tunnels of eyes follow his every move.

"Spread your legs more."

Fighting the blush of embarrassment rising to his cheeks, Harry took a more comfortable position and spread his legs wide enough to give the man the best possible view. And judging by the hungry gleam in his eyes, the position was perfect.

"Perfect," Severus whispered, sitting back in his chair and bringing the glass of whiskey to his lips. "You can start."

Harry started to masturbate, watching the man through half-closed eyes. It didn't last long, however, because the gaze Severus was fixing on him seemed to almost physically touch him, and Harry came quickly, imagining the warmth of those thin, parted lips on his erection.

When he finished and had zipped his fly, and the room was silent except for two ragged, trying to calm down breaths, he noticed that Snape was still looking at him strangely. His vision became even more blurry and his eyebrows tightened, and Harry didn't know how it happened, but he heard his own voice cracking, saying. "Severus... I would like to feel your lips... there, someday," he stammered, pointing to his crotch.

The man raised an eyebrow in obvious surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind, because after a moment he closed it, and something sparkling with mischief appeared in his eyes. "Is that so? Hmm... I must admit that this is an extremely interesting proposition. I'd be happy to do it if you could just show me how you want me to do it..."

And of course it ended with Harry blowing Snape. Later, he was furious with both Snape and himself for being so easily manipulated, but the delicious taste of Severus on his tongue made up for it.

However, there was one thing that bothered Harry a bit. During all these days, all these conversations, trysts, arguments and quarrels, Snape seemed strangely distant at times. He often had a distant, pensive look in his eyes, and Harry seemed to avoid being near him. Or rather, he didn't avoid it so much as he didn't reciprocate it. He stiffened when Harry tried to hug him, no longer petting him or kissing him. It was as if he was moving away from him, or at least trying to do so, and Harry had no idea why this was happening. Had he done something wrong? He tried to remember all the last days, but he couldn't find anything that would justify the man's behavior. Because it couldn't have been about this one nightmare, right? Besides, Snape didn't act like he was still angry at him for waking him up and causing such a fuss. Someone who is angry with someone cannot look at that person as if he wanted to devour him. True? So what could it be?

For now, Harry decided to wait it out and see what this situation would lead to. He didn't want to change anything. He felt good, he could spend time with Snape, and even when they argued, he felt like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Well, maybe he had wanted to do so for a moment during that last argument, but Snape quickly dissuaded him from that idea, or rather... crushed him in a his hands and in violent, angry thrusts.

And now, as they both lay panting on the floor and Harry still felt the man's weight on him, when all that anger and aggression had been released and only a dreamy haze was left, Harry knew that all that had come before, all the painful words, gestures, worries - none of this mattered. All that mattered was that he was here. That he could be here. Next to him. And it seemed that Severus wanted that too. After all, he never let him go, never let him go, always pulled him back.

If that's not an attachment, Harry thought, then what is?

 

***

Dear Ron and Hermione...

What's up? I hope you're having a nice holiday. I'm fine. I spend a lot of time with Hagrid. I'm a bit bored without you, but I managed to fill all this free time somehow. Hermione, you'll probably be happy, but I decided to study a bit since I have Hogwarts all to myself and no one is bothering me. I spend a lot of time in the library, so Madam Pince even started to suspect that something was wrong with me, but it's definitely too cold outside to do anything else. I tried flying the Firebolt for a while, but after almost getting frostbite on my nose, I decided it probably wasn't a good idea.

I miss you, come back soon,

Harry.

 

Well, Harry suspected that the amount of lies in this letter was way above the norm, but he couldn't tell them that he had been fucking with Snape like rabbits the whole time. At least it was true that he was learning. To be honest, he had to stop several times to blow Snape or do other extremely interesting things with him, but he finally managed to learn something. Like how to tease his balls with your fingers to make him moan in such a particularly stimulating way. That was knowledge too, and it's very useful, it must be noted.

 

***

He was doing it again.

Severus was looking at him with a thoughtful, slightly distant look that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. The boy didn't try to raise his head anymore, because when he did, the man quickly looked away and went back to reading the book in his hand.

This was not the first such case. Harry noticed that Severus had been looking at him more and more often for some time now, and he hold his gaze for longer and longer moments. It was as if he was thinking hard, wondering about something that was bothering him. Harry was disturbed by his behavior, but he couldn't ask, 'Why are you looking at me?' because he knew perfectly well that the man would either dismiss him or pretend he had no idea what he was talking about. After all, if he wanted Harry to know the reason for his strange behavior, he wouldn't have tried to hide it.

Harry tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling in his stomach and focus on revising the material from Potions, knowing that they would have an 'unannounced' test waiting for them right after the Christmas break. He turned the page and held his breath, seeing in the textbook a small mention of a potion called 'Desideria Intima', which causes, as it stated, 'unlocking' and seeing one's true, deepest desires. It wasn't on the curriculum, but Snape seemed to think it was too important and too interesting to leave out. No wonder only Hermione knew anything about it. After all, she was the only person who knew every page of the textbook by heart.

Harry looked at the illustration of the red potion in the small vial and swallowed as the memories hit him, and they definitely weren't pleasant. At least not when Snape's malice made him a laughing stock in front of the entire class and most, if not all, of the school. He remembered the bitter taste of terror and the sour taste of regret and self-loathing. He remembered trying to deny what he saw and felt, but it was already there, even if he tried to deny it at all costs. He also remembered the hatred. To himself, and especially to Snape. Even bigger than before. As if he was trying to suppress the heat growing inside him with hatred, but it was always there. He knew it, he felt it every time he hated Severus Snape with every nerve in his body all these years, and he felt like he hated him more and more every day. It wasn't the same kind of hatred he felt for Draco Malfoy or Voldemort. It was a suffocating, incinerating rage, and many times he wondered if the man felt it, because he should have been consumed by its heat long ago.

Now he knew it was more than that. When you hate someone so much that you can't stop thinking about them, when you feel it in every breath you take, in every look at them, in every word you say angrily and only to hurt them, you miss some very important things. For example, one that you can't imagine that this person could ever be gone. That it's the only living being that can make you furious with one single look, trigger a whole arsenal of feelings in you, both positive and negative. That when they're not around, you feel an inexplicable emptiness, even if you're superficially happy that they're gone. That when you look at that person, your mouth tightens, your hands tremble and sweat, you feel a knot in your stomach, and your heart beats like it decided to jump out of your chest.

Doesn't this remind you of something?

And then one small drop, for example of a certain red potion, is enough for the cup to overflow and for the eyes to be opened.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply. Apparently it had to be that way. He had to go through all this, all this hell, so that now he could spend every day in... heaven.

"Something's wrong?" Severus's low, deep voice cut the silence. Harry opened his eyes and looked at the man now staring openly at him.

"I wonder... would I be sitting here with you right now if I hadn't drank that potion?"

He didn't have to say which one. Snape seemed to know exactly what he meant.

"Your desire would come out sooner or later anyway, Potter. Desideria Intima only accelerated this process. It let you see something you didn't want or couldn't see. It can be compared to a kind of glasses of truth that allow you to see the most deeply hidden things. When you take them off, it's up to you whether you believe them or pretend it never happened."

"Does that mean I had a choice?" Harry was surprised by this revelation.

"Just like you have a choice when the healer says you're terminally ill. You can start treatment or pretend you didn't hear anything, and continue living with the risk that one day the truth will hit you with even greater force, but by then it will be too late to change anything."

Yes, Harry thought, that's Severus all over. Only he could compare falling in love with a deadly disease.

He nodded, remembering every second of that day. Now, when the flood of memories began to flow, he couldn't stop it.

"You know..." he started. "At the time I thought you did it on purpose to humiliate me, that you did something with Hermione's potion." He looked into the black eyes that were staring at him. "What did you feel back then? What did you feel when I drank this potion?"

Severus was silent for a moment, as if considering an answer. "I must admit that I was a little surprised."

"A little?"

"Certainly not as surprised as you were, Potter," the man snorted. "If you could see the look on your face..."

Harry gritted his teeth and grimaced. "Well, then, I'm glad I didn't see it. However, I had a perfect view of the expressions on the faces of all the students in the class, and that was enough for me, I assure you," he bit back.

Severus looked at Harry curiously and seemed to want to ask him a question, but he was still hesitant. In the end, he seemed to lose, because he asked. "What happened when you ran out of class?"

"I ran straight to the bathroom," Harry replied quietly. These memories were still a little painful. "I... I broke the mirror there..." He wondered if he should also mention that he vomited?

"Your hand," Snape said, as if to himself.

"What?" Harry blinked, a bit lost.

"That's why your hand was hurt. Did you use the ointment I gave you?"

"Uh..." Well, it seemed it was better to tell the truth. "No. I was mad at you. I didn't want anything from you. In general, I just wanted to sink into the ground. I couldn't imagine ever leaving that bathroom. I didn't want to see anyone, but of course Ron and Hermione found me. I hated you back then. I hated you for making me drink that potion, I was sure you did it on purpose. I didn't want to look at you at all, ever again in my life."

"So you sent McGonagall to tell me that you wanted to resign from my classes," Severus finished for him. "This is so like you, Potter. You prefer to run away from problems rather than face them."

"Are you surprised? Everything collapsed on my head and it was entirely your fault."

"It wasn't me who harbored inappropriate desires for my teacher, Potter," Severus replied with a slightly ironic smirk. "Do you think that if I had known how this would end, I would have ever made you drink this potion?"

Harry shrugged. "How do I know? Knowing you, you'd probably want to take advantage of it," the boy replied, looking at Snape aggressively.

The man rolled his eyes. "And knowing you, I probably wouldn't have to at all."

"Hey! That wasn't nice," Harry said, ignoring the sneer on Severus' face. "And you're surprised that I didn't want to see you? Even more, I didn't want to look at you at all. After all this, I couldn't imagine meeting you at all, so I tried to avoid you."

"I noticed," Snape muttered, as if to himself.

"I tried so hard..." Harry continued, looking at his knees, ignoring the man's attention. "I wanted to forget about it, pretend it never happened... but of course you had to thwart my plans, you had to come to the cupboard back then..." A thought suddenly occurred to him. He looked at Snape through half-closed eyes. "Why did you come to the cupboard back then?"

Severus's face suddenly became closed, inaccessible, and even if Harry tried hard to read something from it, he felt as if he had encountered an invisible barrier in the form of an illegible mask.

?I was just passing by,? the man replied after a moment.

Harry grimaced. This wasn't the answer he expected, but he saw from the man's face that he wouldn't get anything more out of him on this matter, so he didn't even try. He had to answer this question for himself.

"So you decided to stop by and say hello," he muttered with a mischievous smirk.

"Actually, you invited me," Severus replied, looking straight into his eyes, and Harry felt a familiar pang in his heart as he remembered the way those eyes had looked at him back then.

"You know, that time in the cupboard when you touched me... It was... amazing."

"Yes?" Snape leaned forward slightly, looking piercingly at Harry. "Tell me more." He seemed really interested in the conversation, which was a bit disconcerting, but also uplifting. Severus Snape rarely showed interest in anything.

"Well, uh..." Harry continued, trying to describe everything he felt back then, but he knew he would never be able to. "You were the first person to touch me there and make me... come. No one else had done this before. I fantasized about it, but I never believed it would ever actually happen. It was... a first time for me, you could say. And I... I didn't believe it, I couldn't understand why you..." Harry bit his lip, trying to control the sudden storm of emotions and thoughts that broke out in his head at the memory of that event. He took a deep breath. "I just... didn't know what to do. I couldn't resist you, I was standing there paralyzed and... and all I wanted was to feel your touch. Even though I was so scared that I just wanted to get out of there. But something inside me..." Harry touched his chest, where his heart was beating way too hard "didn't let me do that. And then... it was something magical. As if you had cast some confusing spell on me. I couldn't forget you anymore. I couldn't deny it anymore. All I wanted was... you."

Harry lifted his head and looked at Snape hesitantly. The man's eyes were shining. He looked as if he was recalling everything what had happened that autumn evening in the broom cupboard, but at the same time something on his face suggested that not everything was quite right. Harry couldn't name it, only the shadow that framed the crease between his black eyebrows, but he couldn't help the sudden, inexplicable feeling of anxiety that came over him.

The only thing he could do was to break the silence, deprive this anxiety of support, cut it off from nourishment.

However, the next memories were too painful for him to recall, and the echo of the furiously uttered word "nothing" still tore at his insides. So he resorted to what interested him most, and what he had wanted to ask Snape for a long, long time:

"I've wondered many times... did you have anything to do with Malfoy's disappearance?"

Severus stirred as if released from lethargy.

"That shouldn't concern you," he replied sourly, turning his head towards the fire. How typical of him, Harry thought. Whenever he wanted to dismiss him or didn't feel like answering a question, he turned his head in another direction, as if to end any discussion. It was irritating.

"But I'm concerned," Harry said emphatically, deciding just this once not to let him be dismissed so easily. "I know it was him and his stupid friends who attacked me, even though they blindfolded me. We met earlier and... Malfoy said something that really upset me. I wanted to get back at him, I wanted to hurt him so much that I couldn't control my words and... I said terrible things to him. About his father and everything. I will never forget the hatred I saw in his eyes back then. I know I shouldn't have told him this, but I was so angry... And I wonder if it's not all my fault..."

Severus frowned and leaned forward a little, lacing his fingers.

"Potter. Malfoy was almost an adult and a wizard responsible for his actions. He should take into account the consequences of every step he takes. This is the basis of survival in our world. If he forgot about certain rules, even for a moment, he unfortunately had to suffer the consequences. It was his choice and his actions. You are not responsible for all the evil in this world, so stop blaming yourself for everything."

Harry stared at him with wide eyes. Well, he knew Snape was probably right, but it amazed him that the man was so agitated. He may not have answered his question directly, but it was enough for Harry to have a specific opinion on the matter.

Yes, Severus definitely had something to do with Malfoy's disappearance. Or even, he suspected, something very big.

However, this was not the time to dwell on such unpleasant matters. After all, they only had a few days left together and Harry preferred to spend them in a much more pleasant atmosphere, so he smiled carelessly.

"It's okay, I don't blame myself at all. I was just wondering..." He watched the man leaning back in his chair, and as he stared at the Potions Master's slowly brightening face, a question arose in his mind. A question he had never asked before, and in fact he didn't know why, because he had already wondered about it hundreds of times. He gave Severus a mischievous smile and asked:

"I wonder... what would happen if you drank this potion? What is your greatest desire?"

There was a sudden, brief flash of light in Snape's eyes as he turned his head towards the bookcase. He looked at it for a moment, then slowly turned back to Harry. His eyes were once again as black as a lake on a windless night, and his face was unreadable.

"I have no desires, Potter," he said firmly, with bitterness in his voice, and Harry was actually surprised by the way he said it, and what surprised him even more was Snape's reaction to that one simple, innocent question. Severus tensed and his good mood seemed to burst like a soap bubble. "I'm busy right now, Potter," he said suddenly, jumping up from his chair and turning towards his bedroom, "so I hope you can make it to the exit yourself. Goodbye." After these words, the man moved forward and left the room in a few steps, and the only farewell Harry received was a loud slam of the door.

He was left alone, having no idea what he had said and what had bothered Snape again. He shook his head in disbelief, his mind feeling completely confused. Sometimes he really couldn't understand this man at all...

He sat in the deserted living room for a few more moments, trying to ignore the feeling of anxiety that had suddenly come to life and was growing dangerously in his chest, then he stood up and slowly left the Potions Master's chambers.

Unfortunately, anxiety followed him.

 

* "Hanging by a moment" by Lifehouse