Acceptance

+++++++++++

Sunday morning dawned a clear gem of a day, washed clean of the past with hope for the future. Harry cornered the Headmaster early, securing an appointment for just after breakfast. But when he was finally in the office, he found himself unsure of how to proceed.

Dumbledore, as always, was not one to leave his curiosity waiting. "My dear boy, I found myself surprised when Professor Snape remarked that you would be requesting a meeting."

Harry shifted uneasily in his seat. "He's... uh.. the reason I asked to speak with you, Headmaster."

Albus frowned slightly. "I do hope that you two aren't squabbling again."

"No."

Harry had been about to add a 'Sir' to his denial but found that his lips unwilling to comply. Reflecting on it quickly, he found that the honorific was now solely tied to the prior day's events.

"It's just that he said I had to see you."

It took Harry a moment to realize that there was no way out, that the words had to be said.

"Professor Snape mentioned that I should let you know he's agreed to pursue a relationship."

The Headmaster smiled brilliantly. "Thank you, Harry. I'm very happy for the both of you. I presume that he was receptive to your emotions."

Harry fidgeted, remembering that Albus Dumbledore was the only person that knew this particular secret. It had been revealed shortly after the Halloween Feast. The Occlumency lesson with Dumbledore had begun with a failure in his shield and ended with Harry sobbing. But the Headmaster had listened and reassured him not to despair of loving someone who may not ever love him back. He'd assured the young man that all love was a gift.

"Not exactly, Headmaster."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and Harry was left wondering how much the older wizard already knew.

"Of course, my dear boy. Best to get him used to your presence first rather than scare him away."

Harry couldn't completely disguise his sigh of relief and departed from the Headmaster's office with haste as soon as he was dismissed.

+++++++++++

The feast that night seemed more festive than usual or, perhaps, that was simply Harry's improved mood. He had found it rather stunning, earlier in the day, to be confronted by his two best friends. Unlike their previous insistence that Harry conform to their joint plans, they were now expressing understanding.

Hermione's parting comment had even caused him to smile, rather than frown. "You do know what you're going to do with your life… Don't you?"

Part of the way through the evening meal, the Headmaster stood and quickly quieted the room.

"This evening, I would like to take the opportunity to congratulate several of our seventh year students. Three of them have been selected to become Apprentices and Associate Professors in the next school term. When they have completed the requirements of their subject, they will be furthering the knowledge of future Hogwarts students. For Herbology, Neville Longbottom."

The resultant applause was loud but mostly from the Gryffindor table.

"For Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ernie MacMillan"

None too few odd glances were directed at Harry but there was honest enthusiasm for Professor Lupin's choice. Harry hid the small smile at Ron's aside to him. "Prat wouldn't know half what he does if you hadn't taught the DA."

Then the green-eyed wizard's stomach drew tight as Dumbledore continued to speak.

"And for Transfigurations… Harry Potter."

There was a stumbling pause of silence before the young savior received the acclaim of his fellow students. Unbidden, his eyes sought out the High Table. Professor McGonagall smiled at him before turning to accept the congratulations of her colleagues.

Remus was watching Harry, but the young man's glance skittered onward before he could make a solid contact. His gaze stopped at Severus Snape. The Potions Master had the slightest of pleased smiles, unmarred by the usual smirk or cruelty.

As Harry watched, the older wizard saluted him with his glass before drinking deeply. Harry returned the gesture and then sidestepped his tablemate's incredulity with quick thinking.

"I've got to work with him. I doubt Professor McGonagall would be happy if I keep pissing him off now."

+++++++++++

It was much later in the week than Harry had expected before he was finally called in to meet with the transfigurations professor. He'd received the note asking him to meet her after dinner that Friday. Harry arrived promptly to her office to find the witch waiting expectantly as she graded.

"Come in, Harry. Take a seat."

"Yes, Professor."

Eschewing the student desks set aside for detentions, Harry perched in the armchair opposite her at the desk.

"Now, Harry. Although you have several months of school remaining, we will be working quite closely to get you ready for next term. I think it would be acceptable for you to call me Minerva outside of your own classes."

Harry smiled with genuine pleasure. "Yes, Ma'am… Minerva."

She passed over a thick sheath of parchment, the edges ruffling menacingly. "I want you to read this. You'll need to sign the contract in there and return it to the Headmaster."

With a nod, Harry tucked the papers away.

"The summer will not prepare you and the school term gets off to such a swift start that I want to begin your training before your NEWTs."

"What would be involved in that?"

"You would learn the school's administrative side - paperwork, grading, policies and staff protocol. I would also like to refresh your knowledge of transfigurative theory and application. Not only must your own spells be perfect but you must also be able to determine why your students' were not."

Harry nodded again, pleased with having been accepted to the position and excited at establishing himself as something other than a near-legendary name.

"To accomplish this, we'll need to meet twice a week through the end of term."

"That sounds fine, Minerva."

The witch's face softened slightly. "Harry, I won't pretend to know the cause of the falling out between yourself and Remus. Just know that our agreement would not prevent your pursuit of Mastery in another subject. Your transfigurations talents are exceptional but you have always been astonishingly brilliant at Defense."

"I'll consider it."

She smiled and finally faced her most difficult concern head-on. "Now, the Headmaster has informed me that you and Professor Snape have become… close."

Harry coughed, the sudden change of subject startling. "Uh… Yes."

"Now don't be concerned, there are no rules against fraternization among colleagues."

Harry waited warily. He knew, without a doubt, that the professor had a purpose behind mentioning his fledgling relationship.

"Your contract as an Apprentice is for one year, perhaps two if necessary, and requires an additional year of service as a full professor."

McGonagall paused a moment, trying to phrase her concern delicately. "Harry, Severus can be a difficult man when upset. Please keep in mind that this would be a long time to work with someone should you part company other than amicably."

Harry smiled at the concern, untainted as it was by worries over his efficiency as a weapon. "I'll remember that. He and I are going into this with our eyes wide open."

"I do hope so, Harry."

+++++++++++

At breakfast on Saturday morning, Harry received a small package from one of the school owls. He recognized almost instantly the spiky scrawl of his first name. Placing the box in his robes, he read through the short parchment with his eyes widening.

When Harry reported for his rendezvous with the Potions Master, his stance kept shifting almost unconsciously. He entered the professor's private quarters before stopping and waiting for directions.

"Until I direct you otherwise, Mr. Potter, you will seat yourself in your chair before the fire upon entering."

Harry sat, wiggling until he found a comfortable position. "Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

The Potions Master's eyes were dark and the room dim other than the fire crackling beside them.

"Why the chair, Sir? The book you gave me to read implied that kneeling was customary."

"When have I ever treated you in the customary fashion?"

Harry's eyes flickered down in a natural, subconscious gesture that brought a thrill to his professor. "Never, I suppose, Sir."

"The difference has to do with preference, Mr. Potter. If we were embarking on a casual encounter, the rules would be different. But we are not…"

Severus watched the younger man stare at him cautiously.

"The protocol, if you will, is determined by intention. I do not have you kneel by habit as the discomfort would further neither your nor my pleasure. That is not to say that I will never change this request. But my intention in this matter is not to treat you as a slave… An adored pet would be the better analogy."

Harry wrapped his consideration around the term, rolling it about to see how it settled. "Will you have me as your pet then, Sir?"

Severus wasted no time in confronting the young wizard with his own question. "Do you wish to be my pet, Harry?"

This time, Harry hesitated. "I think so, Sir."

The Potions Master smiled. "You have finally learned discretion."

Harry fidgeted, stopping as his body reminded him to be still. "Well… The book you gave me spoke of Masters and Slaves, Sir. But what you're saying sounds different."

"It is. There is too much history between us for the impartial. I have taken slaves before, Mr. Potter. The difference is that I no longer wish for such an affair. I have other expectations of a pet."

Harry bit at his lower lip. He wondered if he had perhaps gotten himself into something beyond his tolerance. "What would you expect of me, Sir?"

"At the most basic, to trust me and care for my pleasure as I will trust you and care for yours."

"That's it," Harry blurted out, quickly following up with, "Sir?"

Severus' smirk was gentle but edged with satisfaction. "For the most part, Harry. I would, of course, demand courtesy, consideration, and your faithfulness as long as our association continued."

Harry nibbled at his lips nervously. He wasn't sure if he was assuming too much. "It doesn't sound as cold as I thought… It sounds more like a relationship, sir."

Severus leaned into his chair's embrace, his eyes shadowed. "And so it is… Though perhaps with more rules than the usual."

There was a long moment of quiet that draped over the room. Finally, the Potions Master's voice silkily caressed the younger wizard.

"Did you receive my note earlier?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And did you follow the instructions?"

Harry's voice was choked with his embarrassment but he answered clearly, "Yes, Sir."

"Then show me."

Harry stood and began to strip. His movements were smooth but swift, hurried by his eagerness. When he was bare to the dungeon air, he paused. Severus promptly provided the necessary direction.

"Turn around and bend over."

Harry complied, easily laying his palms flat on the floor. It was the result of athleticism and agility. As he bent, his legs slightly more parted than usual, a glint of silver metal showed at the cleft of his ass.

"Did you have any difficulty?"

"No, sir."

"How do you feel about such preparation, Harry?"

Harry thought as he held the bent position. It was a simple question that beckoned for an extensive response. As he waited, Severus watched Harry's ass flutter and twitch, grasping at the unmoving toy. Harry only spoke when he believed he found the right words.

"I found it slightly scary at first, Sir. The toy…"

"It is properly called an anal plug."

"The… plug… is slightly thicker than two of my fingers and I've only ever used one on myself before, Sir."

Harry paused, shifting his stance and hands until his hardened prick hung more freely. Its length and proximity made him wonder, if he could bend further, if he could take himself into his own mouth. The thought was distracting to say the least.

"The oil you sent with it was perfect. After a few minutes of trying, I was able to get it right, Sir."

"How does it feel?"

"Full, Sir. And it pushes against me inside."

Harry glanced between his legs at the dark chuckle and caught a short glimpse of the Potions Master's wand. Simultaneously, the metal toy began a low humming vibration. Harry gasped for breath, whimpering and moaning as he grew accustomed to the variation.

"Come to me."

The younger wizard straightened, approaching his tormentor as quickly as he could in his state. Severus chuckled again at the expression of pained restraint and gestured at his own lap.

"Sit."

Shortly, Harry was arranged on the Potions Master's lap. His ass, and the toy buried inside it, were anchored firmly on the man's left thigh. The expected reaction was a hard, hot pressure against Harry's right leg but his questing hand was brushed away.

"Touch yourself."

Harry needed no further encouragement as he took hold of his leaking prick. As he stroked himself, his head slumped to nestle on the Potions Master's left shoulder. His exhales, his low cries of ecstasy, were made directly into the tight jaw. After hours of anticipation and the more recent insistent pulsating inside him, Harry's orgasm took him quickly with a scream. The green eyes snapped open as a finger traced through a wet spot in his crinkled chest hairs.

"Again."

Severus' voice was demanding, his eyes wide with lust, even as he slipped the coated finger into the younger man's mouth. Harry panted for breath as the taste of his own ejaculate coated his tongue.

"I… I…"

The hand slipped from his mouth to grasp his chin, the thigh beneath him shifting to remind Harry of the still fluttering toy.

"Again."

Harry's right hand lifted into an awkward backward grip on the Potions Master's neck, anchored in slick fine hair. His left hand tenderly clasped his sensitive cock. The head was an angry red, size undiminished despite his completion. As he stroked, the silver plug's pulses grew stronger until Harry was writhing. His movement was echoed in whining, simpering pleas until it was almost too much for Severus to merely watch. Harry came with a sudden scream of fulfillment, his offering meager but enthusiastic.

Severus gentled him from the high with soft stroking along his flank. He stilled the toy's actions and stroked soothingly the upraised arm and limp shoulder. Harry luxuriated in the contact before leaning back.

"May I touch you, sir?"

The Potions Master's face was gentle, even with his rebuff. "Not until you are truly ready to be my pet."

The professor stood, urging Harry to stand before him. He ignored the younger wizard's confusion as he assisted Harry in cleaning and dressing. At the door to his quarters, they parted with Severus giving one final comment.

"Come back to me when you are ready."

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