All Hallow\'s Eve

DISCLAIMER: These characters don't belong to me and they never will. No profit is made through these writings, nor is any offense intended whatsoever.

Thanks to EAS, as always, for the Beta work. And also to DreamPet, for the much needed support and wonderful words of encouragement...

Saturday, 1 November, 1975

~~~~~~~FOUR~~~~~TEMPUS DULCIS~~~~~~~~~~

Snape gripped Potter tightly as the Gryffindor began to dip their hurtling broom slightly. The Slytherin glanced below as they angled to the west away from the river. The steep, foreboding peaks of Hogwarts had given way to smooth, rolling hills, dotted with patches of forest of varying sizes. As Potter descended, Snape was able to make out large tracts of farmland and pastures, criss-crossed with thin ribbons of Muggle roads. The clusters of buildings grew larger as Potter increased the angle of their descent. Snape was startled, and pressed himself tighter to his beautiful pilot.

Potter giggled, and responded by guiding his Nimbus Ten Eighty into a steep dive. The Slytherin gasped as his stomach lurched into his throat. Potter laughed out loud, expertly pulling the broomstick out of its dive and banking sharply to the left, and then the right.

Snape was clinging to the Gryffindor with all his might. Potter's laughter trailed off as the breath was squeezed out of him. Quickly leveling out their flight path, he gasped to his passenger in a barely audible voice.

"You'd better lighten up, or else we'll end up in St. Mungo's, or worse!"

The Slytherin relaxed his death grip. Potter drew in some deep breaths, adjusting their course a bit more to the west. The cloud cover had increased significantly. Although it was nearly midday, the skies were growing steadily darker as the winds increased and the temperature dropped. Snape shivered as Potter guided their broom ever lower. Below them was a narrow lane, bounded on either side by empty fields and the occasional cluster of huge, nearly leafless shade trees. Just ahead, Snape could make out a tiny building nestled within some smaller trees set back from the lane. Potter angled the broomstick towards the cottage just as the first fat, cold drops of rain splattered into them.

By the time the Gryffindor gently landed their Nimbus just outside the garden gate, the heavens had opened up, releasing a torrent of freezing, hard rain. Both teens jumped off and ran through the deluge, banging through the rickety gate and up the overgrown cobbled walk. Huddling under the tiny little roof over the front door, Potter scrabbled inside his bag. Thunder grumbled, rolling in a wave over them as the Gryffindor pulled out his wand and murmured the incantation to drop the locks and wards. The weather-beaten door clicked and popped open with a tired squeak. They both attempted to lunge through the doorway at the same time. Potter laughed as Snape apologized lamely.

"Oh, so sorry. After you."

Potter was now laughing so hard it was difficult for him to speak. "No, by all means, Sev, after you."

Snape shook his head. "Please, I insist. You first."

There was another loud boom of thunder and a gust of wind whipped a blast of rain right into them. Potter shouldered his bag and gestured inside.

"Please, Severus. Guests first. After you!"

The Gryffindor winked and leaned against the doorjamb. Even with his hair plastered to his head and sopping wet, he was beautiful. Snape stared at his lover and shivered. And it wasn't the rain or the cold that caused it.

"As you wish, James."

With a curt nod Snape stepped over the threshold. Potter followed, quickly slamming the door as another gust of wind and rain rocked the tiny cottage. A fire instantly blazed to life in the hearth as a number of lamps simultaneously ignited. The room was small. The stone fireplace was flanked by an open doorway on the left and a closed door on the right. The walls were rough plaster, the ceiling, open beams. A selection of mismatched, braided rugs were scattered about the aged wooden floor. An ancient sofa faced the hearth, with two well used side tables on each end of it. Two large bookcases bracketed the window on the left wall. A desk and comfy looking armchair lined the remaining wall. The overall effect was at once casual and relaxed.

Snape watched as Potter propped his Nimbus next to another broom sitting in the corner. Striding across the room towards the closed door, he turned his head halfway around as he opened it and went through.

"The fireplace and lights are charmed to come up if one of us enters the cottage," the Gryffindor spoke from beyond the doorway. A second later, he emerged toweling his head dry. He flipped another towel at the Slytherin, who caught it easily. As Snape attempted to dry his soaking hair, Potter continued.

"This place used to be my grandparents. My father refuses to sell it, so it mostly just sits here, empty. I like to come here when I need to be alone, to sort myself out."

Stopping in front of the fire, Potter took off his glasses and set them on the mantle. Dropping his towel, he pulled his wet shirt over his head. Draping it over an arm of the sofa, he stood there and motioned for the Slytherin to join him.

"Get on over here, Sev. You'll catch your death in those wet clothes."

Snape swallowed hard, nodding like an imbecile. He slowly moved around the sofa, never taking his eyes off Potter. The shorter boy's bare upper body was bathed in the firelight. Potter was flawless. His damp hair hung to his shoulders, framing his thin, finely featured face perfectly. His chest was lean but well muscled and defined, the small, dark nipples prominently visible against his pale, milky skin. The Gryffindor was handsome now; he would be nothing short of breath-taking once he had filled out.

The Chaser smiled broadly, his piercing hazel orbs even more beautiful without his glasses.

"You looked fabulous this morning in the Great Hall, Sev. I love that shirt on you. And whatever you did to your hair. Just gorgeous!"

The Gryffindor stepped towards Snape, grabbing a fist full of the Slytherin's wet shirt and gently pulling Snape towards him. The fire popped loudly as another gust of wind buffeted the cottage. Potter snaked his arms about the taller teen's waist, pulling him in close. He reached up, gently brushing his lips to the quivering Slytherin's. Snape ran his hands across Potter's smooth, muscular back. The Gryffindor gasped softly at the touch of the cool, wet fingers against his skin.

"I love you, Sev," he whispered.

Before Snape could answer, there was a loud popping sound. Potter started, pulling away from the Slytherin.

"Merlin's Balls, Dink! What are you doing here?"

Snape turned to see a rather large house elf standing nervously behind them. His huge, golden eyes gazed up at the wizards, patiently awaiting an order. His nose resembled a short, squat and rather bent carrot. Dink wore an old pillowcase with holes cut in it for his head and arms. He shuffled his huge feet, averting his gaze to the floor.

"I is most sorry, Master Jimmy. I was not meanin' startling you, oh no, Dink was not doin' that. You knows that I mus' come to Henwald whens anyone is being here. Dink is always doin' what he should, Master Jimmy, yes!"

Snape gave Potter a quizzical glance, crossing his arms. The shorter wizard shrugged.

"This is our house elf. I had forgotten that there is a ward here which notifies him if any of us are in the cottage. Sorry, Sev."

Potter gestured to the open doorway to the left of the fireplace.

"That's fine, Dink. Please fix us a light lunch. Something hot would be good."

The house elf blinked at his Master repeatedly, shooting a wary glance towards Snape and then his Master again.

"Yes, Master Jimmy." Dink bowed, backing away from the Wizards towards the kitchen. Potter cleared his throat.

"And Dink, one more thing. You will not, under any circumstances, tell my parents that I have been coming here." He put a hand on Snape's shoulder. "This is my friend and he is welcome in this house. You will follow his instructions as if they were my own."

The young elf nodded slowly as Potter finished.

"And you will not tell them about my friend or anything you see while we are here. Is that clear, Dink?"

The elf nodded once more. "Understood, sir." Whirling about, he disappeared into the kitchen. The sounds of clanking pots and plates immediately wafted out to the living room.

Snape stood there, arms still crossed over his chest, silent. Potter gave him a weak smile and crossed over to him, throwing his arms around the silent Slytherin and burying his damp head into the taller wizard's chest. His voice was muffled as he spoke.

"I've been wanting to get you here for ages, Sev. For so very long. And now my dream has come true."

The Slytherin snorted and rolled his eyes. The Marauder flinched as if he had been pinched.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

The Slytherin sighed, uncrossing his arms and wrapping them around his lover.

"No, not really, but must you talk like that?"

"What do you mean?" Potter asked, his head still pressed against Snape's chest.

"What I meant is I see no need to moon about like some sort of lovelorn second-year in the throes of depression because her boyfriend of two days has dumped her. Or some such nonsense."

The Slytherin's tone was mocking.

"Oh, is that was I was doing?" The shorter Wizard pulled his head away to look up at Snape. "I had no idea you were so well versed in the habits of second-year girls. Or are you simply channeling one from the beyond?"

Potter snickered as he returned his head to the taller teen's chest.

Snape blew out a breath.

"You wound me with your oh-so-witty barbs. Ouch. I am so in my place now."

The Gryffindor chuckled loudly.

"Now that we have that sorted, might I suggest a change of venue? My feet are cold."

Snape harrumphed. "Oh, yes yes yes, of course! Master Jimmy's footsies are chilled! Shall I summon dear Dink to warm them for you?"

Potter raised his head in mock indignation.

"I am in love with a total arse. How fucking fortunate for me!"

Snape gazed down at the shorter Wizard, one eyebrow arched.

"When faced with superior intellect, the inferior always resorts to vulgarities. How disappointing."

The Gryffindor sighed. "Allow me the chance to redeem myself?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Predictable, as well. I suppose that I should have been prep......"

The Slytherin's tirade was cut off as Potter mashed his lips into Snape's, once again grabbing the taller Wizard by the shirt and dragging him through the doorway to the right of the hearth. The couple maintained their sloppy kiss as they stumbled through the doorway. Once inside, Potter released Snape, turning to close and latch the door. Once done, he leaned his back against it, grinning wickedly at the breathless Slytherin.

Snape looked about the small bedroom. A large wardrobe dominated one wall. In addition to the bed, the the room was rather sparsely furnished. There was a small side table and lamp, an old wooden chair, and a large trunk at the foot of the bed. A closed, narrow door flanked the bed in the far corner. A tiny, battered wood stove stood in another corner. The wind whispered through a small gap in the old, multi-paned window as rain spattered against the wavy glass. Snape shivered in spite of himself; he wasn't sure if it was from the chill or his close proximity to Potter in the tiny room. The Gryffindor used his wand to cast a warming charm.

"That should take the chill off a bit," he said sheepishly. Suddenly, Potter seemed hesitant to meet Snape's gaze, preferring to examine the floor planking instead.

"Quite a sudden storm, yeah? We may have to be here awhile to wait it out."

He flashed a weak smile as he crossed by Snape to sit on the worn patchwork quilt covering the bed. Potter sat on the edge of the mattress, his hands clasped together in his lap. He favored Snape with a blank expression before looking at the floorboards again. A gust of wind rattled the loose window pane as the Slytherin joined Potter on the bed, sinking down into the soft bedclothes. He was careful to make sure that he didn't sit too closely to the shirtless Chaser.

Snape licked his lips as his heart threatened to leap up through his throat. What in Circe was wrong? A few minutes ago, he could scarcely keep his hands off of Potter. Now, he could barely look him in the eye. What was wrong with him?

Great. Engage brain. Think. Don't just sit there! Do something!

Snape took a deep breath as he berated himself silently. Turning, he saw that Potter was looking at him with slightly sad eyes.

"Quite a storm," he repeated, staring down at the side table.

"Yes, it is," Snape responded lamely.

"So," Potter offered.

"So," Snape added flatly.

Potter shivered. Snape could see the gooseflesh pop out all over his exposed skin. He scooted closer to the Gryffindor, their bodies barely touching. The contact caused Potter to start slightly.

"Sorry. I guess I'm a little nervous. Daft, yeah?"

"I make you nervous?"

Potter chuckled softly. "Yes, you do."

When he noted Snape's scowl, he reached out, laying a hand on the Slytherin's shoulder.

"No, Sev, you make me nervous in a good way! Really. I'm more nervous about what it is that I think we're about to do."

The Gryffindor tried to lighten the mood with a small smirk and a laugh. It came out all wrong, and Snape arched an eyebrow.

"I see. I admit I feel the same way too, even after last night. I've never been with anyone that way. In the way I think you're referring to, that is."

Potter nodded. "I really want to be with you Sev. Maybe I'm rushing things. I don't want to push you to do anything that you're not ready for."

He turned his haunting hazel eyes to Snape's. The Slytherin leaned in quickly and planted a soft kiss on Potter's slightly parted lips. The Chaser brought one hand up to caress the side of Snape's face, gently pulling the Slytherin in closer. Their tongues hesitantly wrestled with each other, as the kiss increased in intensity. Snape ran his hand across Potter's bare shoulder and down his upper arm. He was amazed at how smooth and warm the skin was, the surprisingly hard, firm muscle flexing ever so slightly underneath. Snape shivered again, this time from the chill. He still hadn't removed his damp clothes.

Potter pulled away, smiling.

"You do need to get out of those clothes, regardless Sev. Now are you going to do it, or shall I?"

Snape swallowed, nodding slightly. Potter stood up, moving in front of him. The Gryffindor gently untied the laces of Snape's shirt. Standing him up, Potter carefully untucked the shirt and began lifting it up. Snape dutifully raised his arms, and Potter pulled it over his head, carefully folding the shirt and placing it on the old chair. Then, unbuckling Snape's belt, he slowly undid the button fly of his trousers, gently pushing them down and being careful to leave his under clothes in place. Potter motioned for Snape to sit on the bed again. The Slytherin complied. Potter knelt down, lifting one of Snape's feet. He pulled off first one boot and then the other, carefully stowing them under the sidetable. Then, the Gryffindor pulled Snape's trousers the rest of the way off, once more folding them as if they were some sort of valuable prize. After placing them over the back of the chair, Potter pushed his own jeans off, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Snape's breathing had become increasingly unsteady during Potter's ministrations. The manner in which Potter had undressed him caused every nerve ending in his body to fire. Now, staring at the nearly naked Gryffindor, Snape gasped at how gorgeous Potter was. He was perfect. Again he wondered how could someone so beautiful would want anything to do with him.

As if sensing Snape's apprehension, Potter grinned broadly and joined him on the bed. The Marauder fluffed up one of the pillows and propped it against the headboard. He leaned back against it, crooking a finger at Snape, indicating that the Slytherin should join him. Snape nodded imperceptibly, sliding himself across the quilt. He repeated Potter's pillow placement, settling in next to the smiling Gryffindor. The two teens sat quietly for many minutes, with Snape nervously shifting his position from time to time as the storm wailed and moaned outside.

Snape became aware of the fact that the Gryffindor was looking at him bemusedly, a crooked grin on his face. Potter chuckled.

"Nervous?"

Snape nodded, looking down. "Yes, a little."

"Me too," Potter answered, his voice the slightest bit shaky.

"Well, we don't have to do it right now. It can wait until later, if you like," the Slytherin suggested.

"No, I don't want to wait. It's just, well, like I said, I've never done this before, and I want this to be perfect. Our first time, you know?" Potter shyly averted his gaze.

Gently brushing his fingers across Potter's cheek, it was Snape's turn to chuckle.

"It will be perfect, James. You're perfect. This isn't some sort of O.W.L. pre-test. We'll work through it together. No worries."

Snape carefully cupped Potter's chin and turned the Chaser's face to his. The Slytherin barely brushed their lips together. Both of them took simultaneous deep breaths as they parted. Potter swallowed, his huge hazel eyes boring into Snape.

"Uh, I think I'd like to have you, um, well....." The Gryffindor blushed deep red, idly picking at the quilt.

Snape nodded knowingly.

"As you wish, James. Just make sure to tell me if you want me to stop. I've never done this before either, and I certainly don't want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable in any way. Just say the word and I'll stop. Agreed?"

Potter smiled bravely, running one of his hands through the Slytherin's wavy locks.

"I don't think I'll ever really want you to stop, Sev."

Before Snape could respond, Potter leaned up, crashing his hungry lips against the Slytherin's. The Marauder clasped the back of Snape's neck, pulling the Slytherin down to him. Snape turned on his side, bringing one arm over Potter to steady himself. The Gryffindor's tongue invaded Snape's mouth, claiming it greedily. One of Potter's groping hands pushed into Snape's boxers and found the Slytherin's erection, encircling the hot flesh and grabbing it firmly. Potter stroked Snape's entire length, pausing for a moment at the end of each movement to massage his balls or tease his cock's head. Snape gasped and fumbled in the Gryffindor's shorts, throttling Potter's own throbbing arousal.

Potter released Snape's prick and shoved the Slytherin's boxers down with both hands. Snape shifted his hips upward as his throbbing cock bobbed free. Breaking their kiss, Snape hurriedly peeled off his underclothes, kicking them off the bed. The Marauder had shed his boxers in the meantime, revealing his own engorged prick.

Snape marveled at the wonderfully slim waist and narrow hips of his new lover. And Potter's member was absolutely huge, virtually erupting out of his dense little forest of black-brown pubic hair. The Slytherin leaned in, grabbing the huge cock at the base and taking as much of it into his mouth as he could. He barely had two-thirds of it in before he gagged. Withdrawing slightly, Snape slowly began to bob his head up and down, careful not to graze the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

Potter whimpered and bucked his hips upward, throwing Snape's rhythm off and causing him to gag again. The Gryffindor carded his fingers through the Slytherin's hair, panting "Severus, oh, yes, Severus, please," in a high, winded voice. After a few moments more, Potter's body jerked strongly, and the Chaser firmly lifted the Slytherin's head up and away from his throbbing erection.

"Getting close, Sev, Merlinyouhavetostopthat!"

Snape reluctantly complied, looking up in wonder as Potter smiled and scrunched down into the soft bedclothes. The Slytherin languidly slid his body up and along his lover's until their lips met and their cocks ground together in a delicious rhythm. Potter thrust his hips upward, sucking breath into his mouth from Snape's. The Gryffindor's hands traveled up and down Snape's body, drinking in every feature, every sensation, every nuance. Quickly breaking their kiss once more, the Marauder turned his head slightly to one side.

"Lubricus," he murmured breathlessly, lunging back into their lip lock with abandon.
Snape felt a wonderfully warm, slick sensation spread about his groin as the charm worked its magic. Suddenly, their hard cocks meshed together smoothly, effortlessly colliding with one another deliciously, their sensitivity escalating exponentially.

Both teens whimpered and moaned anew.

"Oh, Gods, Sevyoufeelsofuckinggood!" Potter gasped.

"Now, Sev! Hurry!" he added as he brought his feet up towards his bum.

Snape swallowed, short of breath. "Are you sure, James?"

Potter nodded vigorously. "Yes, Sev, please, Iwantyoutotakeme!NowSev!"

The Gryffindor moved his hands down, running them over his perfect cheeks and pulling them apart to allow Snape better access.

The Slytherin hesitated for a moment, watching his lover writhe and buck on the mattress in his throes of passion. It was all Snape could do to keep from blowing right then and there.

Potter fixed his gaze upon Snape. His breathing was deep and laboured.

"Lubricus!" he rasped hoarsely. "Sev, I want you inside me!"

Taking a deep breath, the Slytherin moved between Potter's upright knees, leaning down to plant a kiss on the Gryffindor's slightly open mouth. Potter returned the gesture roughly, pushing Snape's head up with his own and managing to catch the Slytherin's bottom lip with his teeth. Snape made a tiny yelp of surprise as Potter released him. The next instant, the Marauder swung his legs up and onto Snape's shoulders. Both teens were covered in sheen of sweat as the storm raged outside, thunder grumbling and lightning flashing brightly through the multi-paned window.

Snape positioned himself as best he could, locating Potter's entrance and apprehensively pressing his hardness slowly into it. The Gryffindor tensed immediately, drawing in a harsh breath that caused Snape to stop, and almost withdraw.

"No, Sev, it's OK," Potter winced through clenched teeth, "Keep going, I want you, please!"

Potter reached for Snape's shoulders, running his hands over them and down the Slytherin's arms as Snape gently but firmly thrust his cock into his lover. Potter bucked and thrashed, whipping his head back and forth, all the while urging Snape on in a strangled wheeze.

Snape paused when his entire length was buried in the Gryffindor. Then, he began to move his aching prick in and out, slowly at first, gaining speed and force with each thrust. Potter whimpered and moaned, at times crying out, but never asking for Snape to stop. Soon the Slytherin was slamming into the Chaser with quick, smooth strokes. Both teens were panting, gasping, bucking and twisting as each neared release.

Potter came first, a loud cry bursting from his throat as his thick spunk shot wonderful, warm slickness across his stomach, chest, and face. Snape followed a few seconds later, spilling his seed with a shuddering, raspy breath. Everything froze for a split second that seemed to last an eternity. Snape memorized every minute detail of how his gorgeous Chaser looked, cataloguing it all for future reference. The sound of the rain on the roof, the faraway thunder, the whistling of the wind through the loose windowpane, the flickering of the oil lamp on the walls, the tartan plaid squares of the patchwork quilt, and his breathtaking lover: all there before him, captured in a nearly overwhelming, stupendous tableau.

The Marauder stretched out his legs, reaching up to pull Snape down to him in a needy embrace. The Slytherin made to pull himself out of his lover, but Potter shook his head.

"No, Sev, not yet. I want to feel you inside me for awhile longer, please?"

"As you wish, Prongs," Snape said with a smile.

Potter snickered contentedly, wrapping his arms around the Slytherin. Snape buried his head into the crook of the contented Gryffindor's neck. Potter nuzzled behind the Slytherin's ear.

"Hmmmm. We'll have to come up with a nickname for you, too," he purred.

Snape murmured an unintelligible reply.

The two lay there quietly for many long minutes. Presently, Potter shivered slightly. Snape lifted himself up, carefully extracting himself from his Marauder. Potter drew a long breath, shivering again. Snape whispered a cleaning charm. Caressing the Gryffindor's cheek, he spoke softly in Potter's ear.

"Let's get under these quilts, love. It's chilly in here."

Potter nodded, and soon both teens were snug under the soft blankets, entwined in each other's arms.

"I love you, Sev."

"I love you too, James."

Outside, the thunder rolled and lightning flashed, rain pelting the tiny cottage. The two lovers dozed off, safe and content, falling smoothly into the most restful slumber each had ever known.



A/N: Tempus Dulcis translates roughly as "Sweet Time"