Smoke & Mirrors

Disclaimer The characters and sheer genius belong to J K Rowling. Any smut is mine, but I don't make a penny/eurocent/cent from my warped imagination.

Chapter 17 Lost

Harry stood rooted to the spot as the centaurs entered the glade. Dangerous as his situation was, for a moment he could only gaze, awe-struck, at the eerie picture they made against the black of the trees, the bluish-white of the snow. Roan, dun, chestnut, bay; all were turned to shades of silver and grey, seeming to melt in and out of the moon shadows; mysterious and unearthly. Bane alone stood out, stark and black against the snow, confronting Harry in the centre of the clearing.

Surrounded by the angry centaurs, all by now pointing arrows at him, Harry began to give up all hope of ever seeing Severus Snape, or indeed any of his friends, again. If he tried defending himself with his wand he might be able to Stun one or two of them, but not all six.

"What shall we do with this human?" Bane demanded, his eyes sweeping the ring of centaurs. "I say we kill him!"

"We should rape him first," shouted a proud-looking centaur Harry had seen in the Forest before: Magorian. "All of us, rape him, kill him and leave his despoiled body on the lawn outside the castle as a warning to the wizards and their sympathisers." Harry knew by 'sympathisers' he meant Firenze.

"That sounds too extreme," said another centaur dubiously.

"Extreme, Ronan?" Magorian replied haughtily. "Extreme, when his kind have spied on our most intimate rituals? Do you wish to encourage this voyeurism? Do you desire to look up from pleasuring your mate, into the lecherous eyes of a wizard watching your every thrust?"

The other centaurs cried out angrily and stamped the ground with their hooves.

"This human has not spied on us," urged Ronan. "It would be wrong to punish him for the transgressions of others."

But unfortunately it looked as though Ronan was in a minority of one among the centaurs. Harry opened his mouth to try and defend himself, but was interrupted by a long, ululating howl from the depths of the Forest. Bane frowned, and turned in the direction of the sound. "I thought we had banished werewolves from –" he began, when the howl sounded again, much closer. A moment later, with a crash of breaking branches, a huge slavering wolf hurtled into the clearing. With a clutch of fear, Harry recognised a decidedly untamed Remus Lupin.

Harry gaped in astonishment. He'd given Remus his Wolfsbane potion before leaving the hut; by now the werewolf should be curled up, fast asleep, not rampaging around the Forest trying to attack a herd of centaurs... had he fucked-up the potion somehow? Then realisation struck. "Oh shit," Harry groaned. "I forgot to add the sodding moon-herbs! What the hell am I going to do now?"

Remus hurled himself straight at Bane, shouldering Harry to one side. Before the centaur had time to fire, arrow and longbow were knocked out of his hands and the werewolf was at his throat, snarling ferociously. The other centaurs promptly swung their arrows away from Harry and trained them on the wolf. But Remus and Bane were shifting position, struggling frantically, and they didn't dare fire for fear of hitting their comrade.

Steam rose from Bane's heaving flanks into the chill air, a white mist in the moonlight. A stray thought crossed Harry's mind: what would a werecentaur look like? But he couldn't allow that to happen. He raised his wand.

"STUPEFY!" he shouted, frowning in concentration. It was among the most powerful pieces of magic he'd ever performed. Remus was hurled forty feet to slam against the trunk of a tree; Bane, caught in the periphery of the spell, collapsed onto the snow, forelegs awkwardly doubled underneath him.

Magorian cantered forward to examine him. "What have you done, human –"

"I saved him!" said Harry, annoyed. "Maybe you'd rather I let him get his throat ripped out – or turn into half-wolf, half-horse every month –"

As the other centaurs clustered around Bane, Harry went to examine Remus. He was relieved to see that the werewolf was still breathing; he'd hit the tree with considerable force. Behind him, he could hear Magorian trying to rouse Bane.

"See, he opens his eyes!" a centaur called out excitedly.

"We cannot murder the human now," said another. "Bane owes his life to him."

"That wolf would not have been here at all but for wizardly interference," Magorian shouted angrily.

As a loud quarrel erupted among the centaurs, Ronan stepped quietly away from the rest and tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Come, you must leave the Forest while they are still debating your fate."

"Good idea," Harry grinned, stowing his wand away. He bent down and, with an effort, heaved the limp body of the werewolf across his shoulders. Straightening up with a grunt he followed Ronan out of the glade. As the centaur led Harry along narrow paths through the Forest, the sound of arguing centaurs died away in the distance.

"Please," Harry said urgently, "do you know what happened to Severus Snape? I was told he came into the Forest looking for Quercus, you know, the squirrel Animagus..." his voice trailed off as he saw the look of fury on Ronan's normally calm face.

"I do indeed know the squirrel," Ronan said grimly. "And I know the crow, also."

"Crow?" Harry asked, his heart sinking. He had a horrible feeling he knew who Ronan meant.

"Another wizard," said Ronan, "using his Animagus form in order to spy on us making love."

"Oh," Harry said blankly. "Er, did he...?" he wasn't sure how to put this tactfully. "I mean, were you...?"

"He and the squirrel were both there as Bane mounted me," Ronan said, trembling with indignation. "Perched in a tree, watching our every move. It was only afterwards, as I licked him clean, that I realised what they were."

Harry went slightly cross-eyed as he tried to picture the scene. "And Severus?" he asked anxiously "You know, Professor Snape – from the castle. Was he with them?"

"Not then," Ronan replied. "He trespassed here soon afterwards though, and Bane was still so angry that he shot him."

"Yes, I know about that," Harry said. "But tonight? Has he been in the Forest tonight?"

"As to that, Harry Potter, I do not know," Ronan said solemnly. "But if he is with the squirrel and the crow, he is in bad company." And he said no more until they reached the path leading to Hagrid's hut. Here he stopped. "I shall leave you here," he said. "Farewell, and good fortune. But I advise you not to enter the depths of the Forest again."

Harry trudged home along the icy path, stooping under the weight of the werewolf slung across his shoulders, silently praying that Remus wouldn't come round and bite him. But Remus was still deeply unconscious when Harry reached the hut. Kicking the door shut, Harry unceremoniously dumped him on the floor and hurried to the small pile of Snape's belongings in the corner of the room. He began to rummage among them, looking for the enchanted bag that Severus used to keep his moon-herbs fresh until needed.

He was taking a wary glance over his shoulder at Remus, who still lay stretched out on the floor, when his hand touched something cold and hard. Glancing down, Harry saw a small crystal bottle containing a swirling silvery substance. Harry paused, intrigued. What was a bottled memory doing among Snape's things? What did it contain?

But then Lupin gave a low growl and his body began to twitch. Harry hastily put the small bottle to one side and continued his search, soon finding the small black velvet bag he needed. Carrying it over to the table, Harry measured out a month's-worth of moon-herbs, and, still keeping a wary eye on Remus, carefully chopped them into small pieces with his silver dagger.

Refreshing his memory with a glance at Snape's parchment of instructions, Harry added the herbs to the remaining potion in the cauldron, murmuring the required incantation under his breath as he did so. A pinch of Aconitum vulparia, a few stirs and a final incantation, and the Wolfsbane potion was ready. Harry filled a goblet from the cauldron and cautiously approached the werewolf, which, though still partially unconscious, was now thrashing from side to side.

Harry managed to pour a large part of the goblet's contents between Lupin's jaws; most of it ran out again but enough remained to have an immediate calming effect. The wolf swallowed convulsively, and then licked up the spilt potion.

"Good boy," Harry murmured. "Here, have a bit more." And he tilted the goblet to pour the remains of the Wolfsbane potion into the wolf's maw. Remus gave a long, shuddering sigh, dragged himself to the rug in front of the fire, and curled up, fast asleep.

*******************

Watching over Remus while he waited for the moon to set, Harry found his thoughts returning to that small crystal bottle he'd found among Snape's things. He shouldn't really, of course... Or should he? Maybe it held a clue to where Snape was now? Harry fetched the bottle and sat turning it over and over in his hand. Should he? Shouldn't he?

With sudden decision, Harry got up and fetched the Pensieve from its place on the shelf. He placed the shallow stone basin carefully on the table and picked up the little bottle. Without giving himself time to change his mind, he uncorked the bottle and poured its shining contents into the Pensieve, then leaned forward until his face made contact with the swirling silvery vapour...

He was standing in a familiar room lit by flickering torches in wall brackets; Snape's office. Severus Snape himself was there, seated at his desk, poring over a roll of parchment. So this was his memory, then? Harry felt his cock begin to harden at the sight of his lover.

Looking round the dimly-lit room, Harry suddenly realised that Snape's present-day office was much brighter, and no longer had those glass jars of vile-looking objects swimming in murky liquids. When had Snape had a clear out? It must have been after they had become lovers; the jars had still been there on their first night together. So was this when he, Harry, was still at Hogwarts, and Snape was teaching Potions?

There was a knock on the door. Snape looked up from his parchment, frowning slightly. "Enter!"

The door opened, and in came Draco Malfoy, looking much younger than the last time Harry had seen him, outside this very office... Harry's eyes strayed to the doorknob for a moment.

"Hello, sir." Malfoy sounded hesitant, not the self-assured pain in the arse Harry remembered, at all. "I wondered... since it's my Potions OWL tomorrow..." his voice trailed off, he glanced shyly up through his thick blond lashes at his Potions professor.

Harry clenched his fists. So it was their OWL year; Malfoy must have just turned sixteen, Snape was still Harry's most hated teacher, bar Umbridge. But seen afresh with lover's eyes, he looked brooding, intense, sexy... not the greasy git the Harry of those days had thought him. And what was Malfoy doing fluttering his eyelashes at him like that, the little tart?

"I can't tell you the contents of the OWL paper, Draco," said Snape, sounding impatient. "The examiners have not seen fit to divulge them to me..."

"But sir, I'd feel a lot more confident if you could just go over a potion or two with me... maybe watch me brew one?" Draco's voice was still low and respectful, but there was something in it which made Snape give him a sharp look.

"What... particular... potion... did you have in mind, Draco?" he asked, his voice deepening. Harry glared at him. Was that a look of predatory interest he was giving Malfoy now? It was hard to tell; Snape's face became smoothly inscrutable again as he looked at the boy in front of him.

"Well, sir," replied Draco, "I've heard my father say that Coitus Imperio provides a true test of a potion-maker's abilities."

There was no mistaking the look in Snape's eyes now. "Coitus Imperio?" he said. "I doubt that will ever appear in an OWL question. And certainly not in a practical examination." He sounded amused. "I can't imagine the worthy wizards at the Ministry of Magic even allowing it into the OWL syllabus. You do know its effects, I take it?"

"Er, I believe it provokes unbridled lust, sir," Malfoy murmured, looking modestly downward. You tart! Harry screamed silently. Not that it would have mattered if he'd screamed aloud; this was the past – the pair in front of him couldn't hear him – there was nothing he could do to stop them...

Snape got up from his desk and began pacing up and down. Every time he turned he passed closer to Malfoy, his robes brushing against the boy. Harry thought he saw Snape's hand just touch Malfoy's arse, but wasn't sure if he'd imagined it. On Snape's next pass through the office, though, he was certain. The professor's hand lingered for a moment, Malfoy smirked and jutted his arse out further. "If I could just try brewing it now, sir, and you could maybe give me a few pointers... on my general technique..?"

"Oh, I think your... general technique needs little improvement, Draco," purred Snape. "But come into the Potions classroom, and maybe we could... refine it a little."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said. "I'm sure my father will be pleased."

"You think so?" Snape said with a lift of his eyebrow, ushering Malfoy into the classroom. Gritting his teeth, Harry followed.

***************************

The fumes rising from the cauldron were obviously having an effect on Draco Malfoy; his face was flushed, his eyes narrowed, his lips drawn back in a faunish leer. "Don't you want to taste my potion, sir?" he asked, eagerly pushing the cauldron towards his teacher. But Snape was too quick for him.

"That won't be necessary," he drawled, causing the potion to vanish with a lazy flick of his wand.

Malfoy pouted. "But sir –"

"I shall dictate the terms of this encounter," Snape said smoothly. Harry shuddered at the expression of cold, predatory lust on his face.

"But don't you want it, sir?" Malfoy pleaded. "Don't you want me?"

"Display yourself," Snape said in a tone of bored indifference. "Maybe... if I like what I see..."

Horrified, Harry watched as Malfoy eagerly tore off his robes, his hands shaking, his self-possession in tatters. Soon he was completely naked, his boyish prick rising from its nest of blond curls. He fell on his knees in front of Snape.

"Don't you w-want to t-t-take your c-clothes off, s-sir?" he stammered.

"Don't presume, Draco," Snape said coldly. "This is all I need to do" and he bared his engorged cock, thrusting it into Malfoy's face. The boy seized it and began kissing and licking, whimpering with uncontrollable, potion-inspired need. He squirmed on his knees on the cold dungeon floor, one hand seeking his own cock. Snape kicked it aside.

"Attend to my pleasure, if you please," he said silkily. "That is why you came here, is it not?"

Malfoy took as much of Snape's engorged cock into his mouth as he could, slobbering and pawing at it. But he still writhed and jerked on the floor, trying vainly to rub his prick against Snape's leg; Snape took a sadistic delight in preventing this. Eventually, however, he appeared to relent and thrust his shoe forward for Malfoy to thrust against. Snape showed no signs of coming, but Malfoy came the moment his professor contemptuously toed the head of his weeping cock. Snape's black eyes glittered down at him, relishing the boy's debauchery.

"Lick it off," he commanded, his voice deep and rough. Malfoy removed his mouth from Snape's cock and bent lower to obey. After a moment, Snape stopped him. "Now scoop the rest up in your fingers... and...ah, lubricate yourself."

Moaning, Malfoy obeyed, thrusting his fingers, dripping with his own spunk, into his entrance and wriggling his arse abandonedly. Snape enjoyed the spectacle, taking his time, one hand clamped firmly round his cock. Finally he seized Malfoy by the scruff of the neck, hauled him up off the floor, and bent him over a table. Malfoy's hands fell away from his arse and Snape savagely breached him. Malfoy screamed. Snape set up a relentless rhythm; Malfoy squirmed under him, his hands scrabbling on the table.

Harry couldn't look away: he felt this scene would stay with him forever – the dark cloth of Snape's robes only partly covering Malfoy's pale nakedness beneath him, the relentless, silent thrusts of the man, the moans and gasps of the boy... and at last the guttural growl of triumph as Severus Snape spilled his seed deep in his willing victim's arse.

A moment later, Snape pulled out, swept his robe around himself once more and stalked back towards his office. He curtly called back over his shoulder: "Get dressed and go back to your dormitory immediately, or I'll take ten points for breaking curfew."

Harry took in Malfoy's bruised, tearful appearance, and almost felt sorry for him. Then he saw Snape's cum trickling down the boy's legs and was immediately swept by a violent wave of jealousy. Malfoy scrambled into his clothes, hesitated, then with a last, longing look towards Snape's office hurried out of the classroom. The dungeon door closed with a bang.

Snape resumed his seat at the desk, a satisfied smirk on his face. He unrolled his parchment and began to study it once more. Every so often his hand stole into his robes and he stroked his cock reminiscently, his smirk intensifying.

Harry could no longer bear to look at him, but neither could he summon up the will to leave; he stood staring bleakly at the floor, lost in Severus Snape's lustful memory, shaken to the core.

TBC >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A/N Yes I know, I know, another cliff-hanger, sorry... but trust me, it's necessary for what I laughingly call the plot...