Heat, Light and the Properties of Plants
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
19,566
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
19,566
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Faking It
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter published 3rd Feb 2006
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 3 Faking It
At first too upset to even notice where he was going, the familiar motion and the rush of cool air past Harry's face eventually calmed him enough to begin examining his own reactions. In the end, he was able to laugh at himself - after all, he felt horror and disgust at the mere thought of being tied to Snape, so why did he feel so hurt that the man evidently felt the same way about him? But to rather be dead...Harry shivered.
Before long he was shivering again, with cold this time. Maybe he should just Apparate to The Burrow...but he needed time to think, and flying his Firebolt always made him feel better. Still, it was cold, and now an icy rain had started to fall, smearing his spectacles and making it hard to see where he was. What was that spell Hermione always used on them before a Quidditch match? He wiped his glasses then groped for his wand, flying one-handed. Oh yes..."Impervius!" he muttered, tapping his glasses with his wand. That was better, now he could see what he was doing. Still cold, though...
Harry flew lower, it was dark enough to make it unlikely he'd be noticed by Muggles, even if any were out in this weather. He followed the ribbon of lights laid down by a Muggle motorway, he was pretty sure it was the one which led in the general direction of The Burrow.
What was he going to do? Had Snape told him the truth about the potion's effects, or was the wizard just having a sick joke with him? "He's twisted enough" Harry muttered to himself. But no, there'd been no mistaking the revulsion on Snape's face: he had obviously felt himself to be trapped, too. There must be some way out. Maybe he could find an antidote to the potion. But if he did, would that mean Snape would have to die? "Maybe I should just kill him," Harry thought bitterly. "Problem solved."
No, he'd just...push all this to the back of his mind, try and carry on as normal. Not that his life had ever been particularly normal, come to think.. Far from it, in fact. But he had Ginny - he must hang on to that. He tried to picture her, but to his horror she kept turning into a darkly scowling Snape. This would never do. 'I'm cracking up,' thought Harry desperately. Then 'I'm tired, that's all. Must get to The Burrow...get some sleep...'
He blinked, trying hard to concentrate on the layout below him, searching for landmarks. That little river over there...it looked familiar,,,maybe if he followed it...yes! There in the distance was the funny little hill he remembered them taking a Portkey from, on their way to the Quidditch World Cup. How long ago that seemed, but it was only four or five years. What a lot had happened since then...
Harry swung his Firebolt round to head for the hill and soon he found himself passing over the village near The Burrow; he was heading down the lane, he was swooping down to hover just above the Weasleys' outbuildings. The house was completely dark. Suppose nobody was at home? Harry brought his Firebolt down to land in the yard and tumbled off. He was so stiff he could hardly walk. He stumbled over to the shed where the Weasleys kept their broomsticks and propped his Firebolt up in the corner. It looked as though most of the family's broomsticks were there, including a Nimbus 2000 he recognised as Ginny's.
He swung his arms, then bent down and rubbed his legs, trying to get his circulation going again. When his legs started to cramp he gave up, hobbled over to the house and banged on the back door. For what seemed like hours nothing happened. Harry had lifted his fist, about to bang on the door again, when a light came on inside the house. A few minutes later the door opened and Arthur Weasley appeared, a tatty dressing gown over his pyjamas. "Harry!!" he shouted. "Well this is a surprise!" He held the door open wide. "Come in Harry, come in!"
As Harry went into the kitchen he heard a commotion upstairs; voices, a door slamming, feet thundering downstairs. And then he found himself grabbed in a tight hug; it was Ginny. "Oh Harry," she said breathlessly, "at last!" She was closely followed by her mother, beaming all over her face. "Harry! It is good to see you!" She looked closely at him. "But you look worn out - and you're wet - what have you been doing? How did you get here?"
"Flew," mumbled Harry. "Firebolt's in your shed."
"Flew? All the way from Hogwarts? Oh Harry, you must be exhausted - you look cold, too, come over to the fire. Would you like something to eat?" Harry nodded, and trailed over to the fire, Ginny holding him firmly by the hand. Mrs Weasley began banging pots and pans around and in a few minutes handed Harry a bowl of steaming hot broth. "Soon be time to be getting breakfast," she murmured with a yawn.
"Oh, sorry," Harry said between scalding hot mouthfuls of broth. "I've got you all out of bed - should've waited - I" "And bed's the place for you, now," said Mrs Weasley firmly. "You can hardly keep your eyes open; come on, you can have Ron's room, he's still in St Mungo's."
"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled, remembering. Ron, bitten by Voldemort's dying snake, unconscious, being carried off by an Auror. Ron, his best friend. But he, Harry, had barely given him a thought since, he'd been too wrapped up in Snape, who couldn't give a shit for him - DON'T GO THERE, Harry silently warned himself. "How is he?"
"Oh, much better, " Ginny said beaming. "The Healers said it was lucky Dad got bitten by that snake too - well, not *lucky* exactly" she looked apologetically at her father. "But you know what I mean, they'd found a cure once, so they just used it on Ron and..."
"He's fine now," interrupted Mrs Weasley. "They're keeping him in a few more days just to be sure, then he'll be coming home. But you, Harry - come on, you really must get some sleep. Put him down, Ginny -"
smiling at her daughter - "you'll have chance to talk to him when he's had a good rest."
****************************************************************************************************************
Harry was back in the Potions dungeon at Hogwarts, crossly chopping up some plant roots; Snape had Disappeared his last batch of potion for no good reason and he was having to make it all again. He could see the sneering face of Draco Malfoy across the room, the Slytherin was delighting in Harry's dismay. Harry made a rude two-fingered gesture at Malfoy who smirked delightedly. Harry realised why the boy was looking so pleased when a heavy hand suddenly fell on his shoulder and the dreaded voice of Professor Snape hissed maliciously in his ear "So, the great Harry Potter thinks he's above the rules of common politeness, does he? Fifty points from Gryffindor."
"That's not bloody fair," Harry protested recklessly. There was an ominous silence, then "I'll teach you what's fair Mr Potter" Snape said silkily. "Detention, my office, Friday night at 8pm."
"But that's Quidditch practice night!" objected Harry.
"I know," smirked the Potions master.
The scene changed: Harry was now in Snape's office.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget, Potter" Snape said menacingly. "Drop your trousers and bend over my desk."
"You're going to cane me?" Harry gasped. "But Professor Dumbledore doesn't allow the cane at Hogwarts -"
"Do as I say Potter or I'll take them off for you" growled Snape, then as Harry reluctantly obeyed, "who said anything about caning?"
Harry could feel him close behind him, breathing heavily. "Today it's going to be a more...unusual punishment," Snape murmured, with almost a caress in his voice. Harry felt a hand on his bum, he was suddenly violently aroused - his naked cock swelling against the desk - he was about to - when suddenly *BANG! BANG!* - a loud knock on the door, Harry was hauling up his trousers in fright, he was...
...He was sitting up in bed, gaping in bewilderment. There was another knock on the door. Harry grabbed his glasses and shoved them on, his heart pounding. He clutched at his hard-on as the door opened and Ginny put her head round. "Okay if I come in, Harry?"
Harry stared at her in shock, his erection immediately wilting, horrified by the dream he'd just had.
Ginny came in and sat on the bed, smiling at him. "Mum sent me to tell you that breakfast's nearly ready." She reached out her hand and smoothed back his hair. "Ooh, look, your scar's starting to fade." Harry moved his head away from her. "Yeah, I s'pect it's because Voldemort's gone now," he muttered. "Was it dreadful, fighting him, Harry?" asked Ginny, gazing at him with a worried expression. "You look sort of - I dunno - "
"I'm fine," Harry said abruptly. "Are there any clothes I can borrow? I left Hogwarts in a bit of a hurry."
"There should be loads of Ron's things in here," said Ginny, jumping off the bed and going over to an old chest of drawers. "Yeah -" pulling a drawer open and rumaging inside "- t shirts, underpants, socks -" she opened another drawer "jeans, sweaters -they should fit you okay. But, Harry -"
"I'd better get up then," Harry interrupted her. She looked at him doubtfully. "But aren't you pleased to see me, Harry? You haven't even kissed me yet."
Harry looked at her. Did he want to kiss her? The honest answer was no...
But this was silly, was he frightened that the potion would make him throw up if he touched her? Kill him maybe? He wasn't going to allow it to ruin his life...so: "Come here," he said, holding his arms open. Ginny hurried over, sat on the bed and snuggled up to him. Harry kissed her as enthusiastically as he could. If he concentrated, he could feel a faint echo of the passion he used to feel for her, but it was fading, fading... It was as though he was dimly remembering someone else's emotion...It was totally weird. Ginny didn't seem to notice anything wrong. She took Harry's hand in hers and guided it up under her t shirt. Harry dutifully groped around and pulled her bra up above her breasts. He lowered his head and nuzzled at her nipples. But he felt absolutely nothing and his cock stayed obstinately limp. Desparately, Harry seized a hard rosy nipple in his mouth and bit it as hard as he could. Ginny screamed. Startled, Harry released her. Ginny hastily got off the bed, pulling her bra and t shirt back down. "Ow, Harry, that really hurt!"
"Sorry," Harry muttered. Ginny got off the bed, gave Harry a very odd look, and headed for the door. "Better get dressed and come down for breakfast," she said. "Ginny!" Harry said. "I really am sorry, I just - got a bit carried away."
Ginny blew a kiss to Harry and disappeared out of the door.
Harry got out of bed, pulled clothes out of Ron's chest of drawers and began to get dressed. The jeans were too long, so were the arms of the sweater, but he could roll them up. Apart from that everything fitted okay - in fact, for someone who'd worn porky cousin Dudley's castoffs for most of his life it was practically designer clothing.
Hmm, maybe the jeans were a bit tight, at that. Harry reached in and adjusted his balls before tugging up the zip. His cock was still completely limp. He'd hoped that Ginny wasn't experienced enough to notice his complete lack of arousal, but from the puzzled look she'd given him he was pretty sure she was.
"It's all right for girls," Harry muttered crossly "but how does a guy fake an orgasm?"
TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Trust me, I don't intend to abandon this story! But please keep reviewing, it's very encouraging to know that people are following it. I'll be busy this weekend, but hope to put Chapter 4 up early next week.
Chapter published 3rd Feb 2006
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 3 Faking It
At first too upset to even notice where he was going, the familiar motion and the rush of cool air past Harry's face eventually calmed him enough to begin examining his own reactions. In the end, he was able to laugh at himself - after all, he felt horror and disgust at the mere thought of being tied to Snape, so why did he feel so hurt that the man evidently felt the same way about him? But to rather be dead...Harry shivered.
Before long he was shivering again, with cold this time. Maybe he should just Apparate to The Burrow...but he needed time to think, and flying his Firebolt always made him feel better. Still, it was cold, and now an icy rain had started to fall, smearing his spectacles and making it hard to see where he was. What was that spell Hermione always used on them before a Quidditch match? He wiped his glasses then groped for his wand, flying one-handed. Oh yes..."Impervius!" he muttered, tapping his glasses with his wand. That was better, now he could see what he was doing. Still cold, though...
Harry flew lower, it was dark enough to make it unlikely he'd be noticed by Muggles, even if any were out in this weather. He followed the ribbon of lights laid down by a Muggle motorway, he was pretty sure it was the one which led in the general direction of The Burrow.
What was he going to do? Had Snape told him the truth about the potion's effects, or was the wizard just having a sick joke with him? "He's twisted enough" Harry muttered to himself. But no, there'd been no mistaking the revulsion on Snape's face: he had obviously felt himself to be trapped, too. There must be some way out. Maybe he could find an antidote to the potion. But if he did, would that mean Snape would have to die? "Maybe I should just kill him," Harry thought bitterly. "Problem solved."
No, he'd just...push all this to the back of his mind, try and carry on as normal. Not that his life had ever been particularly normal, come to think.. Far from it, in fact. But he had Ginny - he must hang on to that. He tried to picture her, but to his horror she kept turning into a darkly scowling Snape. This would never do. 'I'm cracking up,' thought Harry desperately. Then 'I'm tired, that's all. Must get to The Burrow...get some sleep...'
He blinked, trying hard to concentrate on the layout below him, searching for landmarks. That little river over there...it looked familiar,,,maybe if he followed it...yes! There in the distance was the funny little hill he remembered them taking a Portkey from, on their way to the Quidditch World Cup. How long ago that seemed, but it was only four or five years. What a lot had happened since then...
Harry swung his Firebolt round to head for the hill and soon he found himself passing over the village near The Burrow; he was heading down the lane, he was swooping down to hover just above the Weasleys' outbuildings. The house was completely dark. Suppose nobody was at home? Harry brought his Firebolt down to land in the yard and tumbled off. He was so stiff he could hardly walk. He stumbled over to the shed where the Weasleys kept their broomsticks and propped his Firebolt up in the corner. It looked as though most of the family's broomsticks were there, including a Nimbus 2000 he recognised as Ginny's.
He swung his arms, then bent down and rubbed his legs, trying to get his circulation going again. When his legs started to cramp he gave up, hobbled over to the house and banged on the back door. For what seemed like hours nothing happened. Harry had lifted his fist, about to bang on the door again, when a light came on inside the house. A few minutes later the door opened and Arthur Weasley appeared, a tatty dressing gown over his pyjamas. "Harry!!" he shouted. "Well this is a surprise!" He held the door open wide. "Come in Harry, come in!"
As Harry went into the kitchen he heard a commotion upstairs; voices, a door slamming, feet thundering downstairs. And then he found himself grabbed in a tight hug; it was Ginny. "Oh Harry," she said breathlessly, "at last!" She was closely followed by her mother, beaming all over her face. "Harry! It is good to see you!" She looked closely at him. "But you look worn out - and you're wet - what have you been doing? How did you get here?"
"Flew," mumbled Harry. "Firebolt's in your shed."
"Flew? All the way from Hogwarts? Oh Harry, you must be exhausted - you look cold, too, come over to the fire. Would you like something to eat?" Harry nodded, and trailed over to the fire, Ginny holding him firmly by the hand. Mrs Weasley began banging pots and pans around and in a few minutes handed Harry a bowl of steaming hot broth. "Soon be time to be getting breakfast," she murmured with a yawn.
"Oh, sorry," Harry said between scalding hot mouthfuls of broth. "I've got you all out of bed - should've waited - I" "And bed's the place for you, now," said Mrs Weasley firmly. "You can hardly keep your eyes open; come on, you can have Ron's room, he's still in St Mungo's."
"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled, remembering. Ron, bitten by Voldemort's dying snake, unconscious, being carried off by an Auror. Ron, his best friend. But he, Harry, had barely given him a thought since, he'd been too wrapped up in Snape, who couldn't give a shit for him - DON'T GO THERE, Harry silently warned himself. "How is he?"
"Oh, much better, " Ginny said beaming. "The Healers said it was lucky Dad got bitten by that snake too - well, not *lucky* exactly" she looked apologetically at her father. "But you know what I mean, they'd found a cure once, so they just used it on Ron and..."
"He's fine now," interrupted Mrs Weasley. "They're keeping him in a few more days just to be sure, then he'll be coming home. But you, Harry - come on, you really must get some sleep. Put him down, Ginny -"
smiling at her daughter - "you'll have chance to talk to him when he's had a good rest."
****************************************************************************************************************
Harry was back in the Potions dungeon at Hogwarts, crossly chopping up some plant roots; Snape had Disappeared his last batch of potion for no good reason and he was having to make it all again. He could see the sneering face of Draco Malfoy across the room, the Slytherin was delighting in Harry's dismay. Harry made a rude two-fingered gesture at Malfoy who smirked delightedly. Harry realised why the boy was looking so pleased when a heavy hand suddenly fell on his shoulder and the dreaded voice of Professor Snape hissed maliciously in his ear "So, the great Harry Potter thinks he's above the rules of common politeness, does he? Fifty points from Gryffindor."
"That's not bloody fair," Harry protested recklessly. There was an ominous silence, then "I'll teach you what's fair Mr Potter" Snape said silkily. "Detention, my office, Friday night at 8pm."
"But that's Quidditch practice night!" objected Harry.
"I know," smirked the Potions master.
The scene changed: Harry was now in Snape's office.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget, Potter" Snape said menacingly. "Drop your trousers and bend over my desk."
"You're going to cane me?" Harry gasped. "But Professor Dumbledore doesn't allow the cane at Hogwarts -"
"Do as I say Potter or I'll take them off for you" growled Snape, then as Harry reluctantly obeyed, "who said anything about caning?"
Harry could feel him close behind him, breathing heavily. "Today it's going to be a more...unusual punishment," Snape murmured, with almost a caress in his voice. Harry felt a hand on his bum, he was suddenly violently aroused - his naked cock swelling against the desk - he was about to - when suddenly *BANG! BANG!* - a loud knock on the door, Harry was hauling up his trousers in fright, he was...
...He was sitting up in bed, gaping in bewilderment. There was another knock on the door. Harry grabbed his glasses and shoved them on, his heart pounding. He clutched at his hard-on as the door opened and Ginny put her head round. "Okay if I come in, Harry?"
Harry stared at her in shock, his erection immediately wilting, horrified by the dream he'd just had.
Ginny came in and sat on the bed, smiling at him. "Mum sent me to tell you that breakfast's nearly ready." She reached out her hand and smoothed back his hair. "Ooh, look, your scar's starting to fade." Harry moved his head away from her. "Yeah, I s'pect it's because Voldemort's gone now," he muttered. "Was it dreadful, fighting him, Harry?" asked Ginny, gazing at him with a worried expression. "You look sort of - I dunno - "
"I'm fine," Harry said abruptly. "Are there any clothes I can borrow? I left Hogwarts in a bit of a hurry."
"There should be loads of Ron's things in here," said Ginny, jumping off the bed and going over to an old chest of drawers. "Yeah -" pulling a drawer open and rumaging inside "- t shirts, underpants, socks -" she opened another drawer "jeans, sweaters -they should fit you okay. But, Harry -"
"I'd better get up then," Harry interrupted her. She looked at him doubtfully. "But aren't you pleased to see me, Harry? You haven't even kissed me yet."
Harry looked at her. Did he want to kiss her? The honest answer was no...
But this was silly, was he frightened that the potion would make him throw up if he touched her? Kill him maybe? He wasn't going to allow it to ruin his life...so: "Come here," he said, holding his arms open. Ginny hurried over, sat on the bed and snuggled up to him. Harry kissed her as enthusiastically as he could. If he concentrated, he could feel a faint echo of the passion he used to feel for her, but it was fading, fading... It was as though he was dimly remembering someone else's emotion...It was totally weird. Ginny didn't seem to notice anything wrong. She took Harry's hand in hers and guided it up under her t shirt. Harry dutifully groped around and pulled her bra up above her breasts. He lowered his head and nuzzled at her nipples. But he felt absolutely nothing and his cock stayed obstinately limp. Desparately, Harry seized a hard rosy nipple in his mouth and bit it as hard as he could. Ginny screamed. Startled, Harry released her. Ginny hastily got off the bed, pulling her bra and t shirt back down. "Ow, Harry, that really hurt!"
"Sorry," Harry muttered. Ginny got off the bed, gave Harry a very odd look, and headed for the door. "Better get dressed and come down for breakfast," she said. "Ginny!" Harry said. "I really am sorry, I just - got a bit carried away."
Ginny blew a kiss to Harry and disappeared out of the door.
Harry got out of bed, pulled clothes out of Ron's chest of drawers and began to get dressed. The jeans were too long, so were the arms of the sweater, but he could roll them up. Apart from that everything fitted okay - in fact, for someone who'd worn porky cousin Dudley's castoffs for most of his life it was practically designer clothing.
Hmm, maybe the jeans were a bit tight, at that. Harry reached in and adjusted his balls before tugging up the zip. His cock was still completely limp. He'd hoped that Ginny wasn't experienced enough to notice his complete lack of arousal, but from the puzzled look she'd given him he was pretty sure she was.
"It's all right for girls," Harry muttered crossly "but how does a guy fake an orgasm?"
TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Trust me, I don't intend to abandon this story! But please keep reviewing, it's very encouraging to know that people are following it. I'll be busy this weekend, but hope to put Chapter 4 up early next week.