Blind Love

CHAPTER 3



A/N: This chapter contains Harry's rather detailed fantasies about Snape! Slash!





"No…you just look constipated."



Harry was practising looking romantically at his reflection in the mirror. He was being helped - if help was the right word - by Ron who, even though he hadn't been told the reason why he was being roped in to tell Harry if he looked romantic or not, was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet and scrutinising Harry's face seriously.



Harry sighed and stuck out his tongue at himself in the mirror.



"Maybe it just comes naturally. Think of someone that you want to look at and be all soppy with and maybe you'll just…look better."

Harry sighed and looked at himself again. He tried to imagine his reflection replaced with Snape's face, perhaps with a little sneer lifting the corners of that thin mouth…

"No, no, no - now you look devastated. Who were you thinking about?"



"No-one." Mumbled Harry crossly.



"Look…people in love look happy, right, and sort of, dreamy…like you were looking in Potions yesterday…" Harry held his breath, waiting for Ron to put two and two together…

A disturbed look certainly crossed Ron's face momentarily - but he pushed the corresponding thought away just as quickly. Evidently the concept of Harry being in love with Snape was impossible. Harry was quite thankful for that as he turned back to the mirror and tried to smile gently at his reflection. At least Ron wasn't going to start hassling him.

"Sorry, mate - you just look psychotic."

Cheers.

Ron eventually got tired of insulting Harry's facial expressions and yawned that he was going to bed.



Harry sat in the dimly lit bathroom, alone. He locked the door, then turned back to look at himself again.



HARRY'S POV



I don't know what to do. How do I make myself look 'in love'?

I can't do this.

I especially can't do it in front of Snape on Friday. What if me pretending to love him looks too realistic - seeing as it IS - and he gets suspicious? If he doesn't return my feelings, that could be very embarrassing. He'd almost certainly use it against me in Potions. Malfoy would think all his birthdays had come at once. I'd have to go into hiding…



Or, even worse, what if I forget myself and jump on him?



Merlin, what an idea…how much I would love to jump on him.

I close my eyes…



I'm in one of my favourite fantasies, under my Invisibility cloak, headed somewhere - where exactly is of no importance; I'm out after curfew. I sneak down one darkened corridor - there's hardly any light; the night is very dark, so I have my wand out under my cloak, with the light shining from the tip so I can see where I'm going. In the other hand I clutch my father's map, glancing nervously down at it now and again - I'm utterly lost, but I keep going, in the hope I will see something I recognise.

And then I suddenly see him.

The little grey dot with the label SEVERUS SNAPE floating above it.

He's about two hundred yards away, around the next corner. He's walking quite fast - I freeze. I realise I can now faintly hear the brisk clicking of his heels on the cold stone floor.

And then the moon comes out from behind a cloud and illuminates the corridor - I rush over to a window which, a moment ago, I had no idea was there, and peer down at the moonlit lawns below. I'm on the first floor; the view is so beautiful - thin coils of mist swirling across the deserted lawns like ghosts; the Forbidden Forest glinting malevolently in the distance... It must be cold out - everything looks whiter than usual, as though covered lightly in icing sugar. How did I get up here?

I am drawn out of my reverie by the sudden horrified realisation that Snape has turned the corner and is in this corridor - I turn - I can see a black shadow drifting in my direction. For a moment I am reminded of the Dementors and I open my mouth to scream… but then he stops. He goes to a window and, leaning upon the sill, gazes out at the pale scene below us. His face is, as always, set into an expression of displeasure. How can even he fail to appreciate how beautiful Hogwarts' grounds look at night? Perhaps I can't see his face properly - I approach, drawn to him, fascinated. I want to get a better look.



I am within about six feet of him now, creeping along like a shadow. And he sighs. The moonlight illuminates his face and it looks weary, not irritated.

I wonder what it is that makes him so unhappy. I instantly want to make it better.

He looks so tense - he needs to be touched. Stroked. Gently. I wonder if I dare…



Before I realise what I'm doing, I put my map and my wand in my pocket silently and approach him. I'm standing right behind him now - I don't dare even breathe. I reach out my hand, the other holding the cloak tight, and…and…and I run the fingers of my right hand down the centre of his back.



Knowing he will instantly spin around and attempt to grab me, I step back…but he does not move. If anything, he has become more still. He shivers.

I wish I could see his face. All I can see is his back hair, broad shoulders, curved back and…and his arse - I wish he wasn't wearing that huge robe, I want to see him properly.



He still hasn't moved.

I'm being reckless, I know it. Next time I touch him, he'll whip round as fast as lightening and then I'll be on my way to the Headmaster…but I want to touch him again, so badly…and then my hand is stroking his back again. Not just one touch this time - I glide my fingers up and down, then move away from his spine to explore further, then let go of the cloak, praying it will stay on, and lift my other hand - I'm stroking his waist now, with both hands. His hips. My hands move lower - I take his buttocks in both hands and squeeze, just once, before my hands slide up, rather than down, as they would like - up to his shoulders, where he is most tense. I press a little harder. I can feel the knots of tension under his skin - I resolve to work them out, kneading his muscles with my fingers…

And he moans.

And this moan goes straight to my groin. I can't help myself - I move still further forward, until my rapidly growing erection is pressed against his buttocks. And he pushes back against me. Hard. I whimper - then wish I would grab the sound and put it back down my throat - why could I not stay silent - he is moving. Turning. I panic - I snatch out for the cloak, but he has got there first, ripping it from my shoulders…

"Mr Potter. Providing a public service, are we, out here at this hour? I wonder, do you touch everybody you meet out of bed after curfew so intimately?"

His eyes are boring into mine. So dark, so intense. I want to run, but I would never run. Especially not from him.

"No, sir."

"Then why me?"

"You looked like you needed…it. Sir."

"I looked like I needed to be groped?"

"I wasn't groping you!"

He raises an eyebrow. He is amused. "No? What do teenagers these days term touching somebody when their back is turned?"

I am suddenly very, very unsure of myself. I wish I was somewhere else.

"You looked…tense."

"And so you decided to alleviate my tension by groping my arse?"

I am gazing at the floor now, my face flaming red in embarrassment and shame. I've really done it now.



And then:

"Mr Potter."

I hear from high above me.

"You're looking very…tense…"

And then he grabs my shoulders, whirls me round and pushes me against the far wall, so that my back is to him. And he is suddenly pressed up against my back, his voice hissing in my ear -

"And we all know what everybody who looks tense is really after. According to your rather limited reasoning."

"W-what, s-sir?" I manage to stammer out.

"This." He murmurs - and grabs my arse. He doesn't waste any time - his cold hands are inside the back of my trousers and he squeezes my bare, firm flesh, roughly. I moan and arc my back - and then the hands are gone. I turn, leaning against the wall, and glare at him accusingly. He smirks at me and folds his arms in a swish of black fabric.

"What is the problem now?"

"I…I'm still so very tense, professor. I think it'll take a lot more than that."

"Do you now…."

He moves forward, crushing me into the wall as he forces his body hard up against mine, smashing our mouths together. He forces my lips apart with his and drives his tongue inside my mouth, one hand on the back of my head, the other reaching round to grasp one of my buttocks again. This time on the outside of my trousers. And I cannot bear it. I need to feel his hands on my skin. So, while his eyes are closed and he is lost in our kiss, so brutal I fear it will leave my lips bruised, I undo my belt. When he moves his hand up, to stroke my back, my trousers fall down - and he pulls back, startled. He sees the spark of saucy eagerness in my eyes and smirks - he reaches into the folds of his robe, pulls out his wand and mutters a spell - I am instantly naked, the wall cold against my bare back. I shudder, but he is back kissing me again and I am wrapped up in his warm, firm embrace, nestling into him amongst all those many folds of dark material that envelop me.

I'm rubbing my erection against his hip desperately and he chuckles. My fantasy usually gets frustrated with the lack of sex here and, the next thing I know, I am pushed up against the wall, raised up, supported by him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He is making me suck his fingers - I know where he is going to put them; inside me - I can hardly wait, as I cover his elegant fingers with my saliva and gasp for breath.

"So eager…" he groans, gazing at me. I smile around his fingers - he suddenly snatches them out of my mouth and fumbles to get me into the position he wants me in - and then he forces two fingers up my arse and I wail; this is so bad, us, doing this, here, but that just makes it all the more exciting. I'm so hard my cock is seeping pre-come all over myself, and him. He adds more wet fingers, his face set into a look of concentration as my hands claw wildly at his back.

Finally:

"You're ready."

"Oh, yes!" I moan, but he is easing me to the ground. "What now?" I cry, impatiently. But he is undoing his trouser buttons.

"You will need to slick this up for me as well." He murmurs - I know what he's doing and I fall to the floor, almost frantic in my desire, and fumble with his trousers and pants and put my hands in and pull out his cock and he's painfully hard too - he hisses as the cold air touches his erection. I immediately encircle the base with my fingers and plunge as much of it as I can stand into my eagerly salivating mouth. Oh, the taste of him, salty and sticky, trickling down the back of my throat as I wrap my lips around him; he's so big; my mouth is so full…



Oh, Merlin - I'm touching myself through my trousers. I place a silencing charm on the bathroom door and lean over the sink as I undo my trouser buttons with one hand; they fall to the floor, like in my fantasy, and I step out of them. I kick off my shoes and socks too - and then, for no reason, I pull off my robe and shirt and my yellow Quidditch t-shirt and throw them all to the floor. I am standing there, supporting myself against the sink with both hands, wearing only those lace knickers I put on earlier, breathing heavily. I am so horny…that old fantasy will not do anymore. I already know how it ends - him and me have done it in that corridor in all the positions I can possibly imagine. I need something new for tonight…



I close my eyes and imagine he is here. Behind me. Watching me. Fascinated and with desire smouldering deep within those dark eyes. He folds his arms. He does not want to touch me just yet - he wants to watch. I will put on a show for him.



I spread my legs wider and stand up on tiptoe - I want him to get the best view of my arse possible. I wiggle my bottom, wantonly. I feel like his little whore, standing there virtually naked, wearing black lace and with my legs spread apart. A shiver of excitement shoots up my spine and I feel very sexy. In my new fantasy, his eyes fix themselves on my bottom and I wiggle more. He looks at me, runs his tongue over his upper lip and raises an eyebrow. Time to move on. I can't wait any longer, anyway.



I take one hand and bring it to my lips. I could spend time licking my fingers, slowly, one by one, slowing him what I could do to his cock if he'd let me, but I don't. Instead, I breathe gently upon my cold fingers and my tongue darts out, lavishing my palm with saliva. I move my now wet hand down and slide it into the knickers and wrap it around my erection. Finally! Oh! I'm so close already…

I can see his face in the mirror, even in the dim light. He looks irritated - he strains to see what I'm doing…

"Turn around. I want to watch." His voice is deep, throaty. He is as aroused as I am.

I turn and lean back against the sink, propped up by one hand. I can see him properly now - Oh, Merlin! His eyes are positively burning. He has uncrossed his arms - his hands are balled into fists at his sides. He wants me so badly, but he is restraining himself.



I pull my erection out for him to see and just stand there with my legs apart, gripping it and staring at him. I'm such an exhibitionist. I let the knickers slide down my legs and step out of them. I'm completely naked now; naked for him; it feels so good, the cold air on my hot skin. I start to move my warm, wet hand along my arousal, pumping it slowly as he watches, his gaze so intense it burns.

"Oh!"

It's my voice, half choked, breathy. I'm so turned on!

His eyes are staring at my swollen cock as my small hand slips up and down it firmly, rubbing my thumb over the tip and then smearing pre-come all over its length. He licks his lips, as if he wants to taste…

Then:

"Stop. Turn around, slick your fingers with cream and fuck yourself."

I turn; I rummage frantically through a cabinet on the wall until I find a jar of white cream. It isn't mine - I think its Neville's face cream, I remember Ron and I laughing at him the first time he put it on because we thought he was turning into a girl. I'll have to buy him some more - he won't want it after I've finished with it.



I unscrew the lid, scoop out a dollop with two fingers and stand over the sink once more, so I can see his face in the mirror as I brush two creamy fingers over my entrance. The cream feels deliciously cold.

I tentatively dip one finger inside - there is a sharp intake of breath from behind me and I look up. Snape is leaning back against the cold bathroom wall - his hand is slowly drifting down his stomach, towards… I take a deep breath - and push my finger right inside. I'm in an awkward position, my arm reaching around my back, but it still feels so good that the next minute I am adding the other finger.



I'm standing there, my arse in the air and two fingers shoved up it. Now I allow myself to take another look in the mirror - and what I see makes me so hard I buck forwards, desperately rubbing my leaking cock against the sink… Snape is still leaning against the wall, but his wandering hand has finally found its destination: he is watching me with one hand down his pants. Even through the dim light, I can see movement. He's touching himself. The sight of me naked and overcome with lust is making Severus Snape masturbate.



I moan loudly and concentrate on my fingers, sliding them in and out, scissoring them inside, as though I were preparing myself for him… Sweat is trickling down my back and my temples. My other hand sneaks round and grasps my neglected cock and starts fisting it hard. Overwhelmed with sensation, my throat lets out a strangled whimpering sound.



I look up again. Snape is frowning as he looks at me, once again straining to see. His hand groping himself has paused. He doesn't seem to know what he wants to see the most - the hand on my cock or the one inside myself. He suddenly works out a way to watch both.

"Lie on your back, spread your legs and carry on, both hands."



I do. The floor is so cold and I shudder as I lie down - I must look so funny, on my back with my legs in the air, one hand on my cock and the other probing into my own body, but he doesn't seem to think so. He gazes at me as though I were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. I adore being looked at this way. Lying in the most compromising position possible, all my dignity gone, I feel… dazzling. And so I keep touching myself and my moans get louder and louder - Snape comes closer, slowly; almost reverently. He still has his hand down his trousers. He kneels between my feet and allows himself to just stare at me. Our eyes meet and I give him the biggest smile - he smirks back, then his eyes travel down my flushed and quivering body to my hands where they are working rhythmically as I pleasure myself. His eyes widen and he starts touching himself again - I moan, my eyes fixed on the moving bulge in his trousers.

"C…can't you come any closer?" I whisper, wretchedly. He obliges, and then suddenly he can't keep his clothes on either - he withdraws his hand, unzips his trousers and…and pulls out his erection also Oh Merlin he's so sexy when he's turned on look at his cock it's so big I just want to suck it, to run my tongue over it - he's kneeling between my legs I'm putting my ankles over his shoulders, he's that close, all my thoughts have just gone to mush he's so close I can smell him oh I love this I could do this forever oh yes, yes, oh - I'm coming, and so is he. After being aroused for so long, my orgasm is so intense I cry out in shock. He leans forward, placing one hand beside my head, he's leaning over me - he's coming on my stomach, there's sweat trickling down the side of his face, his eyes closed, lips parted breathlessly, I am so in love with him…

"Oh, Severus!" I cry again, closing my eyes, blissfully, drifting away…

And when I open them again, he is gone. Well, he was never there at all, really.

I get up, shakily - and go straight to the mirror. That's it, right there - that's the expression I need. Spent, relaxed, in love… I just need to keep that thought in my head. Hold on to this intense feeling of…I'm so sure it's love; it's so much more than just lust...

I clean myself up; peering at myself again, I realise I'm smiling. I've never looked so happy.



END HARRY'S POV



A/N: Does anybody want more of the story? The rest is still in progress at the moment. As you can probably guess, they practice the effects of Blind Love, lose the battle and Harry ends up as Snape's slave in Voldemort's castle… I'm having fun writing this!

Review if you like this story, and I'll post the next chapter soon! Meiow!