Clause IV

Author's Note: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest

Challenge: 'Life Moves On'

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To those who kept track of these sorts of things, it was easy to discern the source of Albus Dumbledore's good mood. Typically, even the Headmaster found the start of term staff meeting a tad… well, vexing. Just like their students would be in another week, the professors were on a collective euphoric high from their vacations.

Even Sibyll, whom the Headmaster hadn't the heart to sack even if he no longer needed to protect her prophecy, was predicting minor troubles rather than her preferred colossal disasters. The Headmaster's standard good cheer was usually absent at these meetings. After all, for most of a decade they had marked the beginning of the enmity between his Potions Master and whoever had 'stolen' the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

Of course, it was entirely possible that the usual damper wasn't effective as the two professors currently involved in that situation had a long-established (eight years, in fact) record of mutual hate.

Harry Potter was returning to teach.

Minerva had told the others that she'd known he would. His Defense Association club had been not only absurdly popular but had produced some of the best combatants in the fight against Voldemort. With the Dark Lord moldering in defeat by the end of his seventh year, Harry had left school to achieve his Defense Mastery and teaching credentials in a record setting single year.

Not that he really needed the paperwork, as the Daily Prophet had finally, truthfully, reported. After all, to the wizarding world, Harry Potter was Defense Against the Dark Arts. It seemed that only the dungeon-dwelling Potions Master objected to the hero's triumphant return.

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"Well, my boy. Your syllabus appears to be perfectly acceptable. I suppose the only thing that remains is to sign the contract."

Harry smiled at the glittering pride on the Headmaster's face. It had been worth the absolute denial of his personal interests for the last year to be able to return so rapidly to the only place he considered home. He skimmed quickly through the terms before signing with a flourish.

Dumbledore had a moment of concern but released it as he filed the document away. Rising, he beckoned the younger man. "Now, let me take you over and introduce you to your colleagues."

"Headmaster…"

Albus interrupted with a smile. "You're no longer a student, Harry. You may use my first name."

Harry's brow wrinkled, but he started over. "Albus, I know everyone already. The only position change since my graduation is the one I'm taking."

The Headmaster chuckled merrily. "But now you're a professor, not a student."

The younger wizard shook his head but followed his employer towards the staff room all the same.

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When Albus entered the staff room, it was to the usual dichotomy of excitement and boredom. The conversations tapered off and then ceased as the Headmaster stepped aside to reveal Harry standing behind him. "I believe everyone is familiar with our newest staff member?"

As if synchronized, the professors' heads turned to see the Potions Master's reaction. Snape paled, then a slow creep of violent red crawled up his face. The grinding of his teeth was almost audible and his hand twitched in its desire to hex his employer. "Albus, no. Anyone but the Potter brat."

Dumbledore, as was his custom, ignored the objection as he traded greetings with the others and took his seat at the head of the table. Harry was forced to take the only other empty seat.

As the new Defense professor dropped into the chair next to him, Snape almost growled. Harry met the displeasure with a wide grin. "I'm crushed you're not pleased to see me, Snape."

The Potions Master's growl morphed into a snarl. Only the timely interruption of the Headmaster in starting the meeting held back what was sure to be a vitriolic comment.

"Now, as you all know, the school wards have been particularly delicate since the end of the war."

Harry hadn't known, but from the slight nods around the table this was common professor knowledge.

"In accordance with Clause IV of your contracts, the Sorting Hat will determine the best possible assistance that you can each give."

The newest professor thought back quickly, remembering only that Clause IV had dealt with defense and maintenance of the school. He hadn't known the Sorting Hat filled other functions, but again supposed the others did at the lack of adverse reactions.

Dumbledore took the Sorting Hat from his Deputy Headmistress with a smile and placed it on his head. Harry's brow furrowed in confusion when the hat announced simply, "Tee One."

As the Headmaster passed the hat to Minerva with a wink, Harry waited. He knew he was missing something. The Transfiguration professor resulted in the same declaration, bringing an odd flush to her features.

Harry wondered at the suggestive looks between her and Albus before blocking the thought from his head with a shudder. As the Hat was passed around the table, Harry decided to ponder instead the different letter and number combinations that resulted. It began to occur to the young professor that he should have read that contract more thoroughly.

When it came to his turn, he stared warily at the battered magical object before placing it on his head. Apparently, he'd grown quite a bit since last wearing the hat, as it no longer covered his eyes. Those he closed willingly to avoid the disorientation of speaking with an unseen voice.

~Not surprised to see you back here, Potter.~

~Why not?~

~Hogwarts is your home. That's been in your head since you last wore me. Of course, this wasn't there then.~

~What?~

~Untouched power.~

~You always told me I had talent.~

~This, Potter, is not the same.~

Harry's eyes opened slowly as two things happened - the Sorting Hat clearly stated, "Tee Nine A," and every professor went totally silent. As he removed the hat, Harry wondered at the expressions of surprise. The stark moment of suspense was broken by a snort of humor from his right. Harry twisted in his seat to meet the Potions Master's gaze.

"Well, Potter… Who would have guessed?"

"Huh?"

Snape chortled in dark glee. "I suppose that would explain it."

The Headmaster quelled the Potions Master's outburst with a stern, "That's enough, Severus."

The man contented himself with a wide smirk as Albus slid a list across the table to Harry. The young man recognized it as an excerpt of Clause IV from his contract. He skimmed, looking for a definition of section (t)(9)(A). His eyes registered the phrase 'virgin sacrifice' before he flushed berry-red and closed his eyes.

They shot back open as the Potions Master slipped into a vastly out of the norm spurt of gut-deep laughter. He glared at the older man. In that moment, although the humor smoothed the lines from the pale skin and showed the features as appealing rather than austere, he despised that Severus Snape was at his most attractive when laughing at Harry Potter.

The onyx eyes met his, life and amusement sparkling in their depths. Harry could only brace himself mentally against the idea that his colleagues all knew that the Man Who Conquered Voldemort was a virgin. Moreover, that he would be losing that virginity for the good of the school if he wanted to remain employed as a professor.

Harry broke his staring contest with the Potions Master when Albus cleared his throat. The Headmaster's face held some sympathy but long experience told Harry that the old man was up to something.

"Pass the Sorting Hat to Severus, please, Harry."

Snape took it from his reluctant hand with a further smirk. The expression died when the Hat declared, without ever touching his raven-wing hair, "Tee Nine B."

Closing potions-stained fingers compulsively in the fabric of the magical object, the Potions Master forced two words through thinned, white lips.

"Albus, No."

The Headmaster, sensing the impending explosion, dismissed the other staff until only Harry and Severus remained with him in the room. It took a moment of struggle to free the Sorting Hat from the older professor's desperate grip. The Headmaster stood, giving the two men an expectant look.

"This is unusual, certainly. However, I believe you are both capable of fulfilling your professional obligations."

When the door closed behind the aged wizard, the room felt claustrophobic to the green-eyed Defense professor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What's going on?"

The voice from beside him seemed less certain than usual. "Did you read your contract thoroughly?"

"No."

"Potter, you are an imbecile."

Harry's eyes opened and stared without focus at the table, the wood grain blurring in his vision. "Just don't, please… Tell me, without insults, the way you did when you were training me."

The younger man didn't turn to see the dark eyes studying his profile. In the first term of Harry's seventh year, they'd been forced to train together in preparation for the prophetic showdown. Out of those meetings had come respect and an uneasy peace. Harry had never understood why that carefully built rapport was gone when he'd returned from his winter holiday, the Dark Lord dead at his hand.

Severus resolved to give the other man the plain truth, the way he once had. "The loss of sexual virginity in a wizard creates a magical surge that can be ritually harnessed. Our Clause subsections designate that you would make the sacrifice and that I would…. receive it."

Harry's hands tensed. For a moment, his brain entertained the concept of that harsh mouth on his body, the deft hands, that singular concentration all devoted specifically to him. He shuddered, shifting, as his pants grew tight across the lap.

Severus watched the other man as his own heart entertained a faint and long-buried hope. At the visible shudder of disgust, even that was locked away once more. It had been ridiculous for him to assume that even if Harry was interested in men, that the stunning and powerful young man would want him. This… exchange… would be duty only, if it occurred.

Harry swallowed, clearing his throat of a definite tension. "How can the Hat make such a choice?"

"The Sorting Hat chooses what would be best for Hogwarts. It will designate the most powerful magical option."

The younger man was growing shyer by the instant at the absolute detachment in the older man's voice. It might have been easier with the accustomed incendiary sarcasm. As it was, he could manage very little in response. "Ah."

The Potions Master made a soft noise of frustration. "How is it possible that you remain a virgin at nineteen?"

Harry flushed. "There was just never the time or someone with the inclination."

Snape's eyes narrowed at the hesitancy in the tone and words. "If you expect honesty, Potter, you would do well to return the favor."

The younger man stilled at the frigid words. It forced him through his comfortable denial, baring open an old injury. His jaw was clenched as he replied, matching the taut skin of his clenched hands.

"Because even in the wizarding world, I'm an orphaned freak. I didn't want to do… that… with someone that only saw the Boy Who Lived or the Man Who Conquered or whatever other ridiculous name they're giving me this week."

Harry shoved his chair back abruptly, turning to the exit of the room before the Potions Master could see written on his face how deeply the question had stung. "Excuse me, Professor."

His voice finally broke on the last word as he fled. Severus considered the empty room and closed door. He'd known since their first Occlumency lesson that his early assumptions on Harry Potter's home life were incorrect. It was knowledge reinforced when they'd trained the younger man extensively to defeat the Dark Lord.

He simply hadn't realized how deeply the other man's emotional scars marked him. It was almost as stunning as the knowledge of his physical purity. A wizard or witch's magical power never completely stabilized without that embodiment of their physical maturity. The other professors had long since assumed that Albus had encouraged the boy to be rid of his innocence at the first opportunity.

That Harry had been capable of defeating the Dark Lord at less than his full magical potential was both inspiring and frightening. Severus drummed his fingers on the table a final time before deserting the staff room for his dungeons and further contemplation.

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Severus found it somewhat of a surprise the next morning when a polite knock on his office door preceded the Defense professor's entry. Having fully expected to be required to hunt down the other man, he set aside his inventory sheets to proffer his full attention. A practiced eye noted that the younger man had the pale and slightly drawn aspect of a person operating on too little sleep.

His voice was formal when he spoke, "May I have a word with you, Professor Snape?"

Severus gestured to the chair across from his desk, his curiosity peaked. Harry sat, fidgeting a moment before falling unnaturally still. "I've come to inform you, Sir, that I will be tending my resignation to Albus this morning."

The Potions Master could not stop the instant scowl. "And you don't find that to be an overly dramatic response to the situation?"

"No, sir. It's unfair of the Headmaster to expect you to engage in a sexual act with someone you despise. It would be unfair of me to expect you to resign a position you've held for almost two decades. With my resignation, Albus would be required to have the Sorting Hate redetermine your Clause IV activity."

Snape settled back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Tell me, Potter, how do you think of Hogwarts?"

Harry cleared his throat, the pain of his decision clear in his features. "I don't believe that's applicable, Sir."

The Potions Master's frown deepened. "Do you believe I consider this school my home?"

"Yes, Sir."

Snape spring forward in his chair, his palms slapping against the desk with an echoing crash. "Cease this false docility immediately!"

The younger man's anger at the situation grew, peaking beyond the deference he'd displayed so far. "What do you want me to do, Snape? Agree with the Headmaster until he forces you to do this?"

The sneer masked the triumph Severus felt at shocking the younger man out of his self-pity. "Have you even considered the difficulty of replacing you at this date?"

"Why can't you just accept that I'm trying to help you, you stubborn git!"

"Help me? You've insulted me at every turn!"

"What?"

When Harry squawked in shock, Severus leaned back and leashed his volatile temper. "What precisely is your objection to this expectation, Potter? Is it my involvement, or the act itself?"

Harry flushed and closed his eyes. He seemed unable to meet the other man's dark gaze. "I'm used to people looking at me like an oddity."

"Your point?"

"They would look at you that way as well."

Harry opened his eyes as the older man began to chuckle. The humor had softened the harsh features, but somehow Harry knew this time that it wasn't at his expense. "I rather expect that I would be the subject of more envy than derision."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Wouldn't they assume that you were… well, gay?"

Severus stared at the younger man as if looking at a puzzle that he knew was missing some pieces. "Potter, the staff is already aware that I am a homosexual."

Harry stared at the man in shock. His voice was a whisper when he finally spoke. "And it's okay?"

It was the Potions Master's brow that was now furrowed in confusion, observing the young man before him. "Why would it not be acceptable?"

Harry slumped. He scrubbed his hands across his face roughly. "It's not… to a lot of Muggles. It wasn't to the Dursleys. I never saw… No one ever said…"

The younger man stopped, hiding his face in his sheer embarrassment. Severus shifted in his chair, large portions of the problem becoming clear. "How long have you known you were homosexual, Potter?"

Harry sighed, staring at the dark stones of the ceiling. "I had a boyfriend the summer before my sixth year. My uncle beat me when he found out."

"And why would you assume the wizarding world would share this attitude?"

"I never saw any couples. I didn't ask because I didn't want anyone to know."

"You should be aware, then, that most wizards feel it is their duty to carry on the family name with an heir before indulging their inclinations."

"Did you?"

"No, it is best that the Snape line die with me."

They sat in silence for a long time before Harry spoke. "Before I killed Voldemort, when we were training, we worked well together. After, though, it was like none of it had ever happened."

"What is the point of this tangent, Potter?"

Harry finally met the other man's eyes solidly. "I need to know, was it something I did?"

The Potions Master's gaze shuttered, his kindness of only moments before blocked by an expressionless façade. "Of course, you defeated the Dark Lord. Our cooperation was no longer necessary."

Harry flinched, ever so slightly, and then stood.

"Potter?"

The younger man stopped with one hand on the door latch. "Yeah?"

Severus rarely gave in to his curiosity. But, this time, he allowed himself to ask. "What did you believe I would say?"

Harry turned back to the door and it seemed he wouldn't answer. But, then, his voice carried across the room. "I thought that you were disgusted because you'd seen in my mind that I was attracted to you." Although the young man chuckled, there was neither humor nor joy in the broken sound. "It was easier thinking that than knowing you were only pretending not to hate me."

Once again, the Potions Master was left sitting in an empty room, staring at a closed door, after the Defense Professor made an unexpected revelation. However, this time he had not told the younger man the entire truth. He had allowed himself to push the Gryffindor away because the Dark Lord was dead. But he'd wanted to because he'd started to wish for the young wizard in his life.

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At dinner that evening, a meal Harry took in his quarters so he could sulk in peace, Hedwig delivered a short note.

Join me for dinner tomorrow to discuss your misconceptions. S. S.

Harry glared at the Potions Master's spiky scrawl. It wasn't an invitation, it was a demand. But, still, it was dinner… presumably alone.

He stopped scowling and set the paper aside. Maybe he would and maybe he wouldn't. It was just a smug enough thought to salve his burnt pride.

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As he stood outside the Potions Master's quarters, waiting for the man to answer his knock, Harry wondered where his pride had gone. He skimmed nervous palms over the surface of his slate gray trousers. They went well, he thought, with the white collared shirt. Since he wasn't entirely sure this was social, he'd kept his appearance from being either too casual or too formal.

When the door opened, Harry's mouth went slack as he finally knew what the Potions Master wore beneath his teaching robes. Black trousers and a fitted black waistcoat made him appear lean and vaguely threatening. The formal collar suggested a cravat and Harry noticed the other man was holding the white neck-cloth.

Severus smirked slightly as the younger wizard closed his mouth and cleared his throat. Stepping back, he made space for Harry to enter. "You are early."

Harry closed the door behind himself. "You didn't give a time."

He reached out, stilling the Potions Master's arm as he'd reached to tie the white linen around his neck. Harry was finally able to drag his gaze away from the intriguing hollow of throat displayed by the high collar. "Leave it off."

He became aware that he was subtly rubbing the white linen cuff beneath his hand. It was a smooth, fine weave that made him want to reach out and feel if the waistcoat was as well.

Severus arched an eyebrow and gave a barely perceptible glance from his wrist and back to Harry. It made the younger man aware of his presumptuous words and he loosened his grasp with a guilty flush. Gathering his dented pride, Harry met the other man's eyes.

"If this is just another chance for you to mock me, I don't need to be here."

Severus stepped back and turned into the room, walking away from Harry. "Sit, Potter."

Harry's attention finally drifted onto the room. It appeared much the same as his own suite. A main sitting room and doors to presumably a bed and bath. Unlike his own, decorated in red and gold at the time he'd received it, Harry was unable to spy either green or silver in the décor.

As he observed the muted combinations of blue, black, and rust, he grinned. Severus paused in the door to his bedroom, having tucked away the extraneous neck-cloth. He simply watched the younger man for a moment. "Something in my quarters amuses you?"

Harry turned to the question, still grinning. "No green or silver for the Head of Slytherin house?"

Snape smirked. "It's in the bedroom, care to see?"

Harry flushed scarlet, flustered by the flirtatious tone. "Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"Yes."

His mouth fell open at the bald honesty. "Is that why I'm here?"

Severus stepped away from the inner door. Harry drew his eyes away from the glimpse of deep green bed hangings to track the movement. It was utterly surreal to watch the Potions Master deftly pour a burgundy wine into two etched goblets and offer him one.

"I did specify in the note the purpose of this meeting. You should be more cautious of not reading your correspondence."

Harry flushed again, no tremor in his hand as he took the glass. Following the other man's lead, he seated himself in the other black leather armchair. "I read it. I'm just not sure what to think about it."

He was uncomfortable with those hard obsidian orbs staring at him as the other professor sipped from his glass. "You are my colleague now, Mr. Potter. Even as my student, I am not certain you were ever a child. I am making you the same offer as I did in your training. You may ask me any question that pertains to our situation and I will answer it in honesty."

Harry slumped back in the chair, considering. He sipped at his own glass, appreciating that the offering inside was of better quality than that served at the High Table. "Why are we here tonight?"

"To clear up some of your assumptions that have been incorrectly made."

Harry frowned. "Why would you want to do that for me?"

Severus smirked. "There is no reason for either of us to desert our positions if we approach the potential sexual activity as adults."

The younger man choked, coughing to clear his throat. He leaned forward to set the stemmed glass on the low table between them. "You hate me."

"No, I do not. I despised your godfather. I disliked your father. I resented the person I believed you once were."

"Then why did you start acting like you hated me after I killed Voldemort?"

Severus leaned forward, depositing his own glass on the table. He sat back in the chair, hands light on the soft leather of the supporting arms. "I was pushing you away to avoid the temptation to violate staff protocol."

"What?"

"You didn't read the Staff Manual either?"

Harry practically growled at the joking sneer. "Just tell me."

"Staff and student relationships are prohibited. I was eliminating the temptation to inquire as to your orientation."

Harry tried and failed to wrap his mind around the idea of himself as any sort of temptation. He did realize, though, that their mutual hesitancy and avoidance had been at ironically cross-purposes. The younger man shook his head. "I am an idiot."

Severus smiled. It was a faint twitch of the lips, but clearly not a smirk. "You have been ill-used and neglected by the world you saved."

When Harry met the other man's eyes, his face was tight. "Where do we go from here?"

Severus shrugged lightly. "That depends on what you want."

Harry looked around the room, avoiding his companion's gaze nervously. "If this is just about Clause IV, you don't have to pretend. We can just… And I would consider it well lost."

"Harry."

His head brought around by the strength of his first name, green eyes met black. The taller man stood and approached, holding out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Harry placed his in the smooth, cool grasp. The younger man was drawn to his feet, trapped between the chairs and the lean strength of the Potions Master.

He closed his eyes, unable to meet the intensity of the onyx gaze. When long fingers ghosted over his cheekbones and slid into his hair to cradle his head in two hands, Harry trembled.

Then his entire world was the lips moving on his own. It was heat and damp and want and need. Despite his limited experience, this was something that Harry had done before. He fed the Potions Master his fear and mindless lust with his tongue.

Severus received the fragile offering with reverence, bringing Harry to moaning hardness with a strong suck on the appendage. Their flesh parted and Snape was lost in that jade glow.

"Severus." It was a reverent whisper, followed by a desperate plea. "Don't make me love you if this is just physical."

The Potions Master smoothed the tangle of black beneath his fingers. "Could anything between us ever be that simple?"

"Do you want to try for something more?"

"Yes. Even if it does not survive our rush to sexual congress, I wish to try."

Harry smiled, the expression lighting up his face. "Dinner?" he said hopefully.

Severus released him, soothing his fingers down the youthful features. "Gryffindor." The word had never passed from him before with such affection. They turned to the table, delivered and prepared silently by the house elves, a whole world of possibility now open before them.

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The first tentative steps of a relationship with Severus Snape were not what Harry had expected. They had argued the teaching of their subjects loudly and lengthily over meals until the other staff despaired. Harry watched as Severus prepared the infirmary stock, relegated to ingredient preparation, as the other man would not risk his brews.

They shared quiet, private meals and intense kisses, the knowledge that they would be coming together intimately hovering at the edge of acknowledgement. It was lunch on Tuesday before the pair failed in their avoidance tactics and were cornered by the Headmaster.

"The students arrive tomorrow, gentlemen."

Harry glanced down the High Table, aghast at Albus' indelicacy. Those still present were adhering tightly to their meals and providing the illusion of privacy. Severus rescued him with a gentle touch. Harry turned his head as the Potions Master lifted the more tanned skin of his partner's hand to his lips for a brief caress.

The Headmaster could not have been more pleased. "Excellent. Then the final warding will be reinforced by midnight."

Harry watched as Severus nodded before turning to his meal with the last remains of his nervousness.

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Over dinner that evening in Severus' quarters, Harry could no longer avoid laughing at himself. He pushed away the remnants of his dinner salad and snickered into his wineglass.

"You'd better not be intoxicated, Potter."

Harry looked up at the mild annoyance on his companion's face. "No one would ever call you a silver-tongued devil, Severus."

The Potions Master raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Do you need to be wooed?"

"Perhaps a little. I can kill a Dark Lord on only an adrenaline rush, but this? I'm finally going to have sex and I'm scared to death."

Severus rolled his wineglass in his hand as he stared across the table. His gaze met and held the younger man's, his voice deepening in emotion. "Shall I tell you that the urge to caress you is an itch that haunts my palms? That the liquid fire of your kisses is an exquisite torture for which I long? Perhaps that I dream of you arching beneath me, your jeweled eyes piercing my soul as I slip into your body?"

Harry swallowed hard, the words dripping into his veins as arousal drugged his senses. They'd danced around the other for days, knowing the contact would come to this.

Severus stood, leaving behind his own meal, napkin, and glass. Harry rose as well, taking the proffered hand. "Is there anything specific that has to be done?"

His awkward question was cut off as the Potions Mater ran the pad of a thumb over his lips. "Your only task is to enjoy. All that is needed is for us to remain within the walls of the castle." He moved closer, playing his next words over the sensitive flesh of neck and ear. "And for me to penetrate you, my cock sliding into your tight heat."

Harry moaned, arousal a burning need within him as he was led into the bedroom. The door was closed on the slight noise of the house elves disposing of their dinner remains and it was only he and Severus.

Despite the way he'd mocked stories of virginal shyness, Harry found a slight trembling overtook his hands as he reached for his own buttons. Severus stilled the fluttering appendages with a soft touch, placing those shorter, blunter hands on his own taller shoulders. Harry braced himself in that grasp, watching with fascination as stained fingers slipped his own buttons free.

In seemingly the blink of an eye, Harry's chest was bare to the chill air of the dungeon. As his skin reacted to the temperature, Severus smirked easily. With a slightly petulant pout on his mouth, Harry raised his face to meet the challenge offered by his soon to be lover. Silently, the Potions Master acquiesced. A flick of his wand brought the fire in his bedchamber to roaring fulfillment and a wave of warmth spilled over into the room.

Harry arched into the lush heat, the tightening of his chest brought now by caressing hands rather than chill damp. He couldn't prevent the soft gasp as skilled thumbs teased his nipples before sliding down slightly quivering flanks. He was no stranger to orgasm; self-manipulation did not disqualify someone from virgin status.

But it was different to have hands other than his own caressing his body.

Severus admired the half-dazed expression of lust on that younger face, dropping his hands to the fastening of the trousers. Harry's fingers tightened in the cloth over his shoulders, his sudden panting breath an indicator of his thoughts.

Swooping in to catch the younger man's mouth in a fierce, biting frenzy of kisses, Harry was barely able to register as Severus divested him of trousers and pants. He'd bent to follow that unexpectedly lush mouth that was typically concealed by vicious cutting barbs and unbalanced as his last clothing was wrenched below his knees.

Harry's grasp was shifted from shoulders to anchor in lank black locks as Severus' mouth released his only to seek out the center of his need. He released an illiterate scream of need and satiation as wet heat encompassed his cock. Anticipation, startling want, and sudden satisfaction overtook him as Harry climaxed almost immediately.

Breath still sobbing out with his completion, Harry began babbling his apologies. "I'm sorry. So sorry."

Severus stood, hushing him with a tight embrace and the lightest of pets against messy raven hair. Harry hid his face and embarrassment at his lack of control in the crook of neck and shoulder.

"Everything's fine, Harry. You've done nothing wrong."

Harry lifted his head, noting acceptance in the calm obsidian gaze. He noted faintly the slight bitterness of the Potions Master's breath, flushing as he realized it was from his own emissions.

"But, I…"

"You did nothing I did not expect. You're young and the night is far from over."

The Defense Professor surrendered himself to the kiss, startling slightly at the differing tang but not withdrawing. It wasn't totally pleasant, but it wasn't unpleasant either. Mostly it made him wonder if Severus would taste the same were he to find the courage to take the older man's prick into his mouth.

When they broke apart, Harry twisted against the lean, firm body. His flesh exulted in the combination of scratchy and soft against his skin. It was a wicked and wanting grin that overtook his face, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"You're wearing too many clothes…"

Severus smiled, the slight movement erasing much of the torment of his past from his features. "Pull back the duvet, if you would, Harry."

"You don't want me to undo you?"

The older man soothed the doubt with a last caress as he released his younger lover. "I do not recover as quickly as you will and I doubt I could resist were you to strip me."

Pleased, Harry turned and walked the scant distance to the bed. He was outwardly unaware of the hot admiration of his figure, still unconvinced of his own value as a sexual object. But when he'd turned, the dark green bedcovers pulled back to reveal crisp white sheets, it was to suck in a desperate gasp of air.

Severus was not a chiseled young man. He was not a perfect specimen of youthful vim and vigor. But he was, in his own way, a precisely formed and alluring figure. Lean and ropy muscles dominated his form; a more heavily muscled than expected upper body his dominant feature. It was logical considering his occupation and the tasks required, but Harry still had not expected those perfectly formed arms, chest, and shoulders.

His movement as he approached reminded Harry of a stalking predator and his breath caught in his throat. The Potions Master didn't stop until the hair of their thighs brushed, their erections a heavy weight that pressed into their partner. He lowered his head, trapping Harry's gaze with the sheer intensity of his eyes. Malachite reflected the last, faint fluttering of hesitancy.

"Severus."

Something with a hard edge flickered in the dark gaze for a moment before Severus Snape bent his head to lick a long line from Harry's collarbone to his ear. There, he traced the cartilage with the damp tip of his most agile muscle before speaking directly to his lover.

"I'm going to take you… and you're going to scream for me."

A needy, ineffable something inside Harry clenched tight. Even as the last rational part of his brain wondered if he was really making the right choice, he was falling backwards beneath his unrelenting lover.

Cushioned against the heady comfort of the bed, there was little he could do but arch helplessly into the firm press of his Potions Master. And, suddenly, Harry understood. It wasn't an idle thought; Severus was his… as he was Severus'.

The idea caused him to grin, a softening of his lust-driven face that brought the other professor's brows to furrow. Nothing had ever been simple between them and this could not be either. Harry smoothed his hand down the sharply angular face of his lover and continued to smile.

They were not expected. They were not anticipated. And they were by no stretch of the imagination normal. But they were right for each other.

"Severus, please. Don't make me wait any longer."

As if the plea spurred the older man into action, their positions were adjusted until Harry was almost centered on the bed. Severus lay alongside and slightly above him, still worshipping with his touch. Those hands that could wring perfection from a variety of ingredients were no less talented at playing Harry Potter like a stringed instrument.

He whimpered and moaned. He writhed and begged. And for the green-eyed savior, the youngest professor since the current Potions Master had started teaching, sanity only returned when his lover drew back and waited for him to regain himself.

Harry looked into those fathomless black eyes and saw himself. He saw a possibility of the future. He saw Severus and a depth of emotion that he never thought could have been a possibility.

"Why did you stop?"

"Do you truly want this, Harry?"

Harry could hear the unspoken question. Do you really want me? It called to his own concerns, this desperate effort to give him a choice in a life filled with destiny and fate.

"I want you, Severus."

They came together this time in sweet completion, a delicate flurry of kisses that stirred not only their loins but also their hearts. The Potions Master moved atop his younger lover, sighing at the touch of skin.

Harry strained upwards, seeking friction against his once more needy erection. The languorous kisses continued, even as a long-fingered hand enclosed the young prick.

The sensation catapulted Harry from the kiss with a gasping cry. "Merlin, yes… please…"

Severus chuckled as he moved down the body of his lover. There were advantages to their height difference but for Harry's first time, with a partner who desperately wanted him to enjoy himself, this required thought and effort.

The taller man settled himself easily cross-legged between his partner's thighs. Harry's ankles settled on the muscled shoulders, the faintest of blushes persisting at the obvious spread of his body. Summoning a potion to his hand, Severus soothed the tension from the thighs and ass with long, smooth strokes from his hands coated in a light, golden oil.

Harry's head tossed on the bed, his entire being centered on how he was being manipulated. When he first felt the pressure of a finger at his entrance, he tensed.

Severus spoke to him soothingly, "Breathe, Harry. Relax."

The final word carried the impetuous of a spell and the younger man could feel all of his muscles loosening by scant amounts. The finger slid into his body, the length absorbed needily by his rising lust. If you'd asked Harry to speculate as to his first time, he would never have guessed at this room. And he certainly would have included the specter of pain.

But there was none, the human body designed as it was to respond to itself. And Harry was filled with such a writhing force of wanting need that his body welcomed the intrusion.

A second finger soon joined the first, the faint sensation of stretching an odd counterpoint to the satisfying fullness. When the third joined the first two, his anxiety returned.

"Severus?"

Hearing the primal concern in his partner's voice, the Potions Master wrapped his hand around the young cock. He stroked in time to his stretching effort just below, his voice still low when he addressed his panting lover.

"Do you want me to stop, Harry?"

The barest hesitation, then an internal stroke sought and found the source of a lightening flash of pleasure.

"Please…"

The talented hands stilled, Severus unsure for what his companion was asking. Harry whimpered at the loss of the smooth motions.

"Wha?"

He wasn't even capable of the full question but his partner heard it. However his own desire, Severus' moral center would not allow his coupling with this much-used young wizard to be in doubt.

"Do you want me to stop, Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes to meet the doubt on his lover's face. The usual shining green was lost behind his dilated pupils, the slim strip a sharp contrast to the clear black of the pupil and white of the orb. He ran a tongue over dry lips, wetting them enough to allow the passage of his words.

"Make love to me, Severus… please…"

Severus had nearly reached the end of his own reserve of self-control. He shifted, moving his lover's ankles from his shoulders until the strong legs embraced his sides. Harry whimpered again when the fingers withdrew completely, but the sound was caught a moment later by a kiss.

The Defense professor was sucking on his partner's tongue when the first blunt pressure quickly gave way to a shallow penetration. There was no immediate pain, only a gasping realization at the idea of what he was doing… and with whom.

"Look into my eyes, Harry."

The younger man followed the instruction and their gazes locked. He saw the strain his lover was under as the sensation of the slow, complete penetration absorbed his every thought. Petting at the now even messier hair, Severus waited for his lover to adjust.

It was clear when Harry had become accustomed to the full completeness of his lower body. Severus was absorbed in a verdant gaze and the docility and hesitancy dropped away from his now avaricious lover.

"More, damn you."

Thrusting at first slowly, then with increasing vigor, Severus felt their interlude rising to the inevitable end. The pressure of the room grew around them; Harry's own magic lent the atmosphere the aspect of a breathing needy thing that was being absorbed by the stones around as fast as it could be raised.

The building tension of his own orgasm brought the Potions Master to wrap a demanding fist around Harry's purpling erection. The young man was lifting himself into each thrust, a small cry echoing from his mouth every time. At the hand on his prick, he began to whine slightly. It was begging plea for completion that his lover was only too pleased to acknowledge.

Harry was unusually silent when he climaxed, his mouth caught open on a breath as his body fluttered around his lover's member. Severus' orgasm caught him mere moments later, his back arching as his neck stretched back and he groaned to the ceiling of his four poster bed.

Their eyes closed in ecstasy, neither observed the momentary flicker in reality. There was a subtle shimmer, then stillness, as Hogwarts took the offering for its own maintenance and defense. But for the two men so involved in the process, the original reason had been lost behind their emotions.

Severus lowered himself, withdrawing gently and laying out beside his lover. He watched with concern as Harry blinked open his eyes to meet the watchful gaze. More comfort than any words could have been, the beatific smile that spread across his young lover's face soothed Severus' soul.

It was also unsurprising that the younger wizard's eyes drooped in sleep considering the energy expended in the stabilizing of his powers.

Reaching for his wand, Severus cleaned them both with a spell before drawing the bedclothes up over their bodies. The light was banished next, leaving only the flickering of the quickly banking fire to illuminate their embrace. As sleep drew the man to join his lover, he gave a last chaste kiss to the slack lips before him.

"I love you, Harry."

Finis

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