Beg Me To Stay

Beg Me to Stay

Written By Bree

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter…unfortunately. J.K. Rowling owns this series, I am merely writing this fan fiction for my own desires. I will not be making money off this, but tips are appreciated :P

Warning: Sexual Content, Language, and Very, very gay sex. 

Rating: NC-17

Type: Romance, Humor, Angst, Kink

A/N: I do realize that this story jumps a lot. Snape often appears to change personality quite a bit, but understand that this is my plan for the story. I want the readers to understand that Snape is trying to come to terms with his feelings for Harry. (There will be in a coming chapter a view of what is happening from Snape’s end of the perspective.)
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Previously: Harry looked towards Snape quickly. What was the man doing? Harry was offering himself to Snape freely and the man refused him? He felt his anger boil, but only a small whimper left his mouth. He now understood what the man meant by torture.

Fine, if Snape wants a battle, he can have one. I will show him just how much torture I can take and give it back to him ten-times over.


Part I: Getting To Know You

Chapter Two: The Apprenticeship


“Harry, want to go flying today?” It was two days before Ron and Hermione along with everyone else that had left for spring break, got back to return to their studies. He was a bit relieved, but along with the relief, he was anxious. His classes would continue including his Potions class with Snape. Since that night, he hadn’t seen the man. He was still thinking of ways that he would drive the greasy-git crazy, but so far nothing really came to mind.

“Naw, I think I’m going to finish my essay for Potions. I haven’t even begun to think about what I am going to write.” Seamus gave him a knowing nod, having not finished his either. Despite all that, Seamus took off to go flying with another Gryffindor and to meet with his girlfriend later in the day.

Harry grabbed his things and made his way to the common room. It was going to be a long day. Not only did he have to write fourteen feet of parchment, but he had to study for a Transfiguration test starting the day they got back. He hadn’t received any homework for his other classes because they had taken pity on the students. McGonagall along with Snape were always stern and gave a lot of homework for the break. McGonagall however made it apparent that she wanted her students to have fun with their families and friends so she simply gave them an outline of what they needed to study for the upcoming test.

Harry had done a bit of studying, but he wasn’t prepared enough to explain the affects of staying transfigured as a dangerous animal yet. Any dangerous animal that a wizard or witch transfigured into must be aware that at any point, their control can be lost and their primitive mind would take over causing a lot of hardship with the surrounding people, possibly putting them in danger.

He sighed audibly as he pulled out several feet of parchment and began to write in his best handwriting the effects of moon flower petals against poorly diced fig-foot beetle wings. It wasn’t one of his favorite subjects, but Harry had begun to understand the contrasting effects of the different ingredients. Too many times had he been a victim of their ill-effects, but he was gradually learning what could possibly create a more powerful solution and what it took to change a potion entirely—which wasn’t much.

By the time the hour struck three, he was half way through his essay. He had accomplished a thorough explanation on the properties of moon flower petals and if refined by a solution called “Rain’s mix” it could allow for a stronger flower petal increase and eventually a better potion.

He placed his quill down on the table top, kneading at a kink in his palm. All that writing about petals and their effects had made him hungry. He decided that a well-deserved break was in order and then he would return to finish the rest of his essay. He still had to talk about the effects of fig-foot beetle wings and their effect on the moon flower petals.

The dinner hall was empty of any life. He knew that he had missed lunch, but he was still hoping he could catch someone in the room still eating and have the food regenerated so that he could eat. Of course, he hadn’t expected anyone, so when there was no one in the entry hall, he made for the kitchens.

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“Hello Dobby,” Harry said through a small smile as he noticed the house-elf well at work on the dishes. He and Dobby often would talk when Harry was too frustrated to say anything to Hermione or Ron, and he had grown to love and adore the interesting house-elf.

”Dobby be so glad to be seeing Harry Potter. What does Harry Potter sir wish of Dobby?” The elf made his way over to Harry, pulling his legs into a hug before releasing him to gaze up at him.

“Do you think I could get a bit of lunch, Dobby?” He placed a hand to his stomach and watched as Dobby gave no moment’s hesitation before he returned with an overflowing plate of food. The plate was obviously stacked when Harry grabbed it from the small animal’s hands. He stumbled a bit at the weight of the platter.

“Uh…thanks Dobby.”

“Anything for Harry Potter. Dobby glad to see Harry Potter in high spirits today.” Harry smiled at the small creature and then nodded his head. He watched as Dobby returned to the work at hand, and he too realized that he had work to do. Taking the food with him, he made his way back to the common room.

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Harry stretched his aching bones as he finished the last sentence of his essay. He was somewhat proud of the detail he had gone into. He would show Snape that not only did he have potential with potions, but that he had potential with his writing. Despite all that, he was still thinking of ways to get back at the man.

It was odd, but he was surprisingly happy to find out that Snape wanted him. Behind the layer of stoic expressions and harsh words was a desiring beast that was about ready to pounce. He knew that because it was his last year at Hogwarts that he had to think along the lines of what he wanted to do with his life.

The happiness slowly seeped from his face and mind as the additional thought crept into his mind. What if he died trying to defeat Voldemort? He was sure that he wouldn’t make it through the fight without losing someone close to himself most likely losing the battle. He wasn’t in the slightest ready for such a powerful wizard. What if Voldemort got to Snape and…?

He pulled himself out of the desk and stood up, the tears filling the brim of his eyes. He wouldn’t cry. Too many times he had cried thinking about what he may lose when the final battle occurred. He promised himself that he would try not to think about it, but the visions were showing that Voldemort was planning his attack, and that it wouldn’t be too long from now when Harry would have to face the snake-like creature with a bundle of Death Eaters.

Did he even stand a chance against the beast? He had always been told that he wouldn’t amount to anything by Snape, which most often was out of harsh feelings for his father, but was Snape right?

He needed to talk to him.

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Harry hesitated a moment before he knocked lightly on the door to Snape’s office. He was nervous, but he wasn’t going to run away this time. He knew what Snape felt for him, but was the man just lusting, or did he truly care for Harry? He would find out tonight.

“You may enter,” Snape said through the door. Did he know that Harry was coming tonight? It was a bit odd, but Harry opened the door and stepped inside.

Snape was sitting at his desk, writing what it seemed to be ingredients for a highly complex potion. Harry identified it as the Lurinxa’s Draught. The draught had been named after the most well known witch of seduction. The draught would cause the victim to become unable to say no as well as do anything the potion giver asked of the victim. Harry didn’t want to know why Snape was looking at the ingredients of the potion, but he had a slight idea.

“What do you want, Potter?” Harry looked up from his daze at the ingredients on the page. His head was full of images of Snape forcing him to crawl on the ground and eat from his palm. It was quite arousing. Harry had never been one to be called submissive, but secretly, he wanted nothing more than to be forced to be a slave to another, especially Snape.

“I..uh, well Professor,” he said as best he could. The look he received almost caused him to run from the room, but being the Gryffindor he was, he merely gazed back. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Well get on with it Potter, I don’t have all day to listen to your incoherent questions!”

“I was wondering if, if you think that…that I am ready to defeat Voldemort.” His voice was soft and his eyes withdrawn. The vision he had the night before had proven his suspicion of what Voldemort was planning.

“Not even close Potter,” Snape replied without a moment’s hesitation. It seemed that he was back to his normal self. Weird that, Snape could act like the same old greasy-bastard even after he had pushed Harry against his private chamber’s door and ravished him stupid. Not that Harry was very bright to begin with.

“R-right…” Harry turned to leave, but Snape spoke again.

“What made you ask, Mister Potter?” Snape’s voice was as stoic as usual, but the malice that often accompanied it was absent.

“I…” he turned his eyes a bit red with the thought of losing. “I know that he is planning his attack, sir. I just wanted to know if I stood any chance at surviving the battle. It seems that no matter what happens I’ll probably end up dying any way.”

It was the first time that Snape had shown any form of sympathy. Usually the man would make a comment about Harry’s melodramatics, but ever since their Occulmency lessons, he had shown a bit more compassion and sympathy. Snape knew everything about Harry’s stays with the Dursley’s. As much as he wasn’t willing to show it, the man had felt bad when he found out and even showed a bit of hatred towards Vernon.

“That’s not for certain. Dumbledore plans to have you well trained before the battle. He has already spoken to me about continuing your Occulmency lessons.” Snape looked as if he too was uncertain if Harry would make it. Harry could even make himself believe that what he saw in those eyes was sadness.

“Well…I guess that’s all I had to ask, sir.” He turned away, his eyes already brimming with tears. He wasn’t ready to be the one to save the entire wizarding world. He simply wished to be just like everyone else. Then again, Harry had never been normal and he was damn sure that he would never know what “normal” felt like.

“Harry,” hands fell on his shoulders and he couldn’t help but give an exasperated sigh that led to a few tears to stream down his face. He closed his eyes tightly and wished to be stronger, but he couldn’t help the little sniffs and heaves of his chest as the tears streamed from his eyes. It was so amazing to hear his voice come from those lips.

Arms came around his shoulders and forced him to turn around as he cried in great heaves of torment. He was pressed firmly against a chest, a head coming down on top of his head. It was the first time anyone other than Ron or Hermione had comforted him. It felt good to be in those arms, to feel cared for, but he didn’t want to feel as though he was forcing himself on Snape.

He began to pull away, shaking his head and trying to stop the tears, but he was once again pulled against a firm chest. “Shhh, Harry. It’ll be alright. We’ll make sure that you defeat Voldemort and come out of it with shining colors. The wizarding world will have its Golden-Boy.” The words were harsh, but he could tell that Snape meant what he said. He knew it wasn’t in Snape’s nature to comfort another.

Harry pulled back, having finally stopped crying to look up at the man’s face. Snape looked as though he was truly sympathetic, but he could see that he was trying to hide it. He smiled and nodded.

“Do not, however, think that this exempts you from the torture you are to receive.” A hint of mischief was dripping from his words. Harry understood that the time to cry had passed and now the bastard was going right back into his antics. He smiled to himself. Snape was the only one that could just go right back to being the same old bastard after comforting someone.

“I wouldn’t expect any less of you,” Harry said as he pulled away from the man. His eyes hinted to the obvious challenge. “Oh, by the way, the final ingredient to the Lurinxa’s Draught is winder-soot shavings with a touch of jasmine lace.”

Snape looked at him, hiding his astonishment only slightly. He knew that he had never really shown any true interest in potions, but having Hermione as a friend, he had learned quite a lot.

He turned away and left the office. The sadness having been put to the past, he was going to try to focus his energy on getting back at Snape. He was often aware that he would put his worries in the back of his mind, but he knew that if he continued to dwell on it, he would just become depressed.

He couldn’t help but be proud of himself though. He had made the most well-known uncompassionate wizard comfort him. In light of that thought, he had an idea on how to get back at the potion’s professor.

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“Harry!” Hermione rushed to him with her arms spread out like an eagle’s wings to gather him up in a very girly, and breath-taking—literally—hug. She squeezed him and then let go, returning to the side as Ron did much of the same thing except with a man hint—the slap on the back which now burned.

“Good to see you two back in high spirits,” he smirked out when they both blushed at his words. Being pale and a red-head, Ron was easily read. Girls being well girls were easy read when they were embarrassed. Hermione’s face, at the moment, could be considered the color of a tomato.

“Yeah well, we made the best of it even though you weren’t there, mate.” Ron smiled sheepishly, trying to hide the blush from earlier. Harry was just glad to have them back. He had had fun with Seamus, but it is nice to talk with the people that had always been there for him, since the beginning.

“So what did you do while you were on break Harry?” Hermione began as they made their way to Gryffindor tower. Harry didn’t know if he was ready to say anything about Snape. Hermione and Ron were his best friends, but he couldn’t help but think that he shouldn’t tell anyone the other side of Snape; maybe if things got better, such as the end of the year when he was forced to defeat Voldemort.

“I just studied, flew with Seamus, and stayed in the tower.” Harry wasn’t going to go into detail, and his friends knew not to ask. They just wanted to get back to where they were and hope that the end of the year came faster then all the others had.

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“Today we will be making a complex solution called Red-Water Sickness. This potion is highly lethal if taken, so it will be most important that you follow instructions. If any hint of purple in the final stages, you are to clean out your cauldron and get a zero for the day. There will be no mistakes. You may begin.” Snape sat down at the head of the room, starting on the huge pile of essays fourteen feet in length. Only a few had accomplished doing them, but of the few was Harry. It was said before class that those that hadn’t finished the assignment were to receive a week’s worth of detention. Among those were Ron, Hermione, and Seamus.

Harry had been all but stunned to find that Hermione hadn’t done her homework. He didn’t want to think about what had made her lapse in judgment, but he was more than proud to show that he had done his homework.

Harry began to dice the cinder root on the table—the first ingredient required in the potion. He was dicing so perfectly that even Snape had stopped to watch for a moment before continuing on the path towards poor Neville.

“Dice, Longbottom, not destroy the cinder root.” The soft whimper left Neville’s mouth as he tried once more to dice the cinder root.

Harry’s potion took form of a red-blood liquid, as described on the board as the final stage. He smiled at his accomplishment. The liquid looked as it should, not something that had happened to Harry in a while.

“Those that have received the final stage blood color potion may take a sample and put it into a vial. Place them on the desk. You are dismissed.”

Harry put a sample into the vial he held and then vanished the rest, saying goodbye to his hard work. He made his way to the front and placed the vial on Snape’s desk. The man looked up at him and then down to the potion. He smirked to himself when he saw the pure astonishment in the man’s eyes. The potion was perfect.

“Mister Potter, you are to stay after class.”

Harry felt something tug at his heart when he noticed the man snarl. Had he done something wrong? His potion looked as good, if not better, then Malfoy’s. He nodded his head and returned to the desk beside the cauldron he had been using. Both Ron and Hermione gave him sad glances. They too had seen the potion and Hermione had been astonished to notice that it had been brewed better than her potion.

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Harry followed Snape into his office, his eyes following the tile on the ground. He wasn’t able to look into those eyes. It seemed as once again he had done something wrong and he wasn’t about to show that he was disappointed.

“Take a seat,” Snape said as he made his way to a cabinet in the corner. Harry looked up from his place on the floor to follow Snape’s movements with his eyes.

“What did you need to speak with me about, Professor?” Harry watched as Snape took out a vial similar to the color of Harry’s and made his way over to the desk once more. He put the two vials on the desk, one marked as Harry’s and the other unmarked.

“How long have you been able to brew complex potions Potter?”

“Uh, well I’ve always been pretty good about it sir.” Harry looked at the vial next to his and then his. They were the same color and the same spark seemed to leap off the vials.

“Do you realize that you were able to match my ability at the potion?” Snape’s voice wasn’t really directed at Harry. He was looking at the two vials himself. He pulled the top of Harry’s and then the vial next to it. The vials exerted a small growl. “Do you know anything about the Red-Water Sickness potion, Potter?”

“Yes sir. The Red-Water Sickness happened in the earlier part of the century. The potion was created through a complexity of time and roots. The potion has the ability to make a person bleed from all pores and slowly die of loss of blood. It was a horrible potion, sir. The antidote is fairly easy to brew and only needed in small quantities, so the potion is no longer considered dangerous.” Harry watched as Snape visibly applauded him, even though the man would not admit to it.

“Along with that Potter, only two wizards in the history of time have been able to create the incurable Red-Water solution. Those two wizards Mister Potter are the great wizard Merlin and I.” He looked at him before adding, “And now there are three.”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears at first, but when he finally registered what Snape was saying, he couldn’t help but smile. He nodded his head and then looked down at the vials. He had created an incurable potion, not something that he would use, but he was proud to be considered something by talent, not by name.

“You had asked me the other night if you would be able to continue lessons Potter; I have talked with Dumbledore and he has given me permission to continue when you agreed to. I would also like to take you as an Apprentice Potion’s Master as you have proven yourself.” There was a hint of malice in the words, but Harry knew that Snape was more than happy to teach him.

“I would be honored sir.”

“I will speak to Dumbledore about the apprentice-ship, Mister Potter. If you are to become my apprentice, however, you will be required to move into my quarters and spend your leisure learning the art of potions.” Snape seemed to lighten his words as though Harry would be unhappy with having to sleep so near the other.

“As I said Professor, I will be honored to be your apprentice.”

“You are dismissed Mister Potter,” Snape stood from the desk and looked to Harry. Harry stood as well and then turned to look at Snape.

“It’s okay if you call me Harry, sir.” With that, he made his way to the door. “It is only appropriate after snogging the wits out of me the other night.”

He made his way out of the office and to the Gryffindor tower. He knew that he had to let Ron and Hermione know about the apprentice-ship.

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“Snape asked you to be WHAT?!” Ron was looking at him incredulously while Hermione was simply smiling. She had known for quite some time that Harry was amazing at potions. He would often hide it, but it was something that he decidedly was very good at, not to mention something that he—despite what he often said—enjoyed.

“Calm down Ron,” Hermione hissed as Ron paced about the common room. Other Gryffindors were looking onto his display and trying to tune into what was going on. Harry was about to sock the wits about Ron since he didn’t want the entire school knowing.

“I don’t know yet, Ron. Snape still has to talk to Dumbledore about it.” Harry was sitting down on the couch adjacent to the fireplace. His eyes were watching the boy in front of him pace, but he wasn’t anywhere in the thought with the two.

Since their meeting, Harry thought about how they would be sharing living quarters. He couldn’t help the shiver that cascaded down his back when he thought about what might happen in those rooms. Since he was now at the age of consent, he was sure that the man wouldn’t hold back.

He could hear the two bicker between each other, but decided that he wasn’t going to say anymore. He had had a long week and he was still contemplating ways of getting back at the man.

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“Ah Harry, come in. Lemon drop?” Dumbledore’s smiling eyes greeted Harry as soon as he entered the room. He made his way to the seat before taking one of the man assortments of lemon drops from the tin.

“I assume you already know why you are here. Snape has brought to my attention that you would like to continue your Occulmency lessons as well as an apprentice-ship.” He smiled gleefully at the slow nod from Harry. “I took a good look at the potion you brewed the other day Harry and was surprised myself to see such beauty in the brewing. I undoubtedly agree with Professor Snape when he said that you have a gift for potions.”

“He said I have a gift sir?” Harry was surprised to hear those words. He knew that Snape like to maintain his hatred for Harry in the presence of Dumbledore, but he assumed that the man would say it was by force that he would be doing the apprentice-ship.

“Oh yes, Harry. Professor Snape made it clear to me that he was persistent on having you as his apprentice. He has made it clear to me that it is where you belong and he wouldn’t be surprised to see you become a great Potion’s Master, as would I, Harry.” Dumbledore smiled once more before continuing after Harry’s sudden blush. “As I’m sure you are aware, you will be resigning in Professor Snape’s quarters during the rest of the year as well as the rest of your apprentice-ship if you are to agree. I will warn you Harry, it is often overlooked, the art of Potion’s, but I feel that you will make a great Potion’s Master one day.”

Harry merely smiled, “I told the professor that I would be honored to be his apprentice. I understand what that includes and I am more than willing to do it, sir.”

Dumbledore looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He usually had to make some kind of effort to get Harry and Snape to do anything together, but it seemed that they had grown closer from their last lessons together. He would need their friendship to be close when the time for battle arrived.

“Wonderful Harry! Your things will be taken to Professor Snape’s quarters and you will begin your apprentice-ship with him tonight. I feel this is the start of a great thing, Harry. Congratulations.” He gave Harry a small hug and then allowed the boy to get back to his room to make for the move.

Harry could feel his heart throbbing in his chest. He was going to be near Snape—practically living with the man.

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“Your room is to the left,” Snape announced as he led Harry about his quarters. Harry for the most part had been out of it. He only noticed that Snape was speaking when he had received a raise of an eyebrow from his lack of response.

“Right,” he said as he made his way to the room. He put his belongings on the bed and then turned to find Snape watching him from the doorway. He felt somewhat belittled by the older man’s presence. Snape was what could be considered two feet taller than him as well as he carried a bit more appearance then Harry did.

He could feel his words catch in his throat as Snape made his way over to him. “Where are the rest of your belongings Potter?”

“This is all of them sir,” Harry looked from the small pile on the bed to the man almost humorously. He was not one for owning much since every summer he would have it taken away from him in some manner or another. Vernon didn’t like him owning things, so he was forced to live without them most times. The oversized clothing had belonged to Dudley, but he hadn’t really minded it much. He had what he had, and he wasn’t about to go complaining about it.

“As my apprentice, you will receive all of your belongings from me. Anything you want or need will be my responsibility. We will be going shopping for clothing and new tools for making potions. I will not have you wearing second hand material Potter. As for what you will wear on the school grounds, I will being designing your apprentice robes with the sign of potions enclosed with my family crest of Slytherin. As you are a Gryffindor, you will have a small symbol underneath those that shows the Gryffindor lion.” After the explanation, Harry could feel the heat of the stare on him. He was indignant that Snape continued to call him by his last name, but he wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

“Sir, you can call me Harry.”

Snape seemed to think for a moment before he nodded his head, “In the security of these private chambers you may call me Severus, but are to never call me that outside these walls, do I make myself clear?”

Harry simply nodded with a sheepish grin. It was going to be an extremely entertaining rest of the year.

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Harry had finished unpacking his belongings and finally taken a breaker from the day. He wasn’t in the mood for dinner, so he kept to the room when six o’clock arrived. Sna—no, Severus believed otherwise.

“Potter, you are to go to dinner. We will be beginning our lessons tomorrow and I don’t want you to be whining about being hungry.” Severus made his way into the room as Harry made to push himself further back onto the bed.

“I’m not hungry sir.” He looked as the man made his way to the side.

“You will eat whether you are hungry or not Potter.”

“You can call me Harry sir.” Harry’s eyes showed his anger as Severus growled low in his throat.

“Fine, you are to go eat dinner Harry,” he said with a bit of anger rolling off his tongue. Harry didn’t really see the big deal in not eating dinner. He wasn’t hungry so he shouldn’t have to eat. Then again, the reason that Harry had been given the draught from earlier is to get him to sleep and eat.

“But I’m really not hungry!” Harry huffed and turned his back to the other. He was acting childish, he knew, but a part of him was enjoying the rise he was getting from the Potion’s Master.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and was thrown hard against the mattress of the bed. His eyes opened wide as he felt the bed shift and his hands came to be bound by one big hand above his head.

“You, Harry, will drive me to insanity even before we begin our lessons together.” He saw the anger pooling into the obsidian depths of this Potion’s Professor. The man was above him, holding him captive to the mattress. His body was already reacting to the fact of being held down.

He wet his lips with his tongue as he looked up at that face, now accompanied by lust in those eyes. He wanted to smirk, but his mouth wouldn’t allow it, only to gap up at the man in uncontrolled fear. He could feel the man’s knee come between his thighs, forcing them apart. He tried to breathe, but he couldn’t when the man’s knee was fitting between his thighs and his already hard erection.

“Is this really what you want Potter?” Snape pressed his knee against the obvious erection and those eyes became ignited in a fire that Harry had seen on two other occasions. “Being controlled and forced to submit to another?”

The voice itself had him breathing heavily. His eyes fluttered in his arousal as that voice surrounded him like a fine silk. He was becoming undone by the pure ecstasy of that voice. He tried to hold back the groan, but it slipped from his slips as the man’s knee began to rub down against his erection.

“Sev’rus,” Harry gasped as his body molded against the said knee to rub along the hard bone. In the moment he had whispered the other’s name his lips were pried open with the man’s mouth. He could feel a tongue force its way passed the barrier of his lips and roam freely in his mouth. He whimpered as another hand pinched through the material of his robes at a budding nipple.

Harry made a few quick thrusts of his pelvis against the knee connected with his erection and groaned incoherently when the knee began to knead against him like a quick thrusting machine. He whimpered when Severus pulled his knee from the spot and pulled Harry up with it.

Their mouths crushed together in a hungry kiss, one that devoured Harry from the inside out. All will to hold his body up had left and he began to slide along the hard center of his professor’s body. Severus pulled him up against him and began to once more devour him as though he was a divine feast.

When those addicting lips left his, Harry couldn’t help the helpless cry for more. Severus pulled away from him and soon stood near the bed looking down at Harry with a contortedly aroused stare.

“Mister Potter, you are to go to dinner and then return here promptly for lessons. I will have no other excuses.” Severus turned and walked through the bedroom door, not having once looked back at Harry.

Harry couldn’t help but feel empty. Every time that Severus made to arouse him, he always pulled away and did no more than that. This truly was sweet torture, but Harry was determined to make the man want him—to beg him to stay in his life.

With that thought, Harry made his way down to the dinner hall, his plan now clear and the weeks ahead were to become the sweetest torture that his professor had ever to endure.

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