Legillimens

Snape was hunched over a putrid-smelling cauldron when Neville finally awoke and joined him. His hair was a mess and he still had the imprint of his pillow across one cheek. He gave a friendly half wave as he walked over to Snape, nose wrinkling.



"Eww, that hums a bit!" he said, fanning under his nose as he peered into the cauldron.



"Yes, well, any potion that requires both cadaver sap and Horntail droppings is bound to be a bit rank."



"What\'s it for?" Neville asked.



"It\'s a love draught," Snape replied.



Neville raised his eyebrows in disbelief.



"Good luck slipping THAT into someone\'s drink."



"It\'s not for humans, you twonk. Hagrid is trying to breed the Hippogriffs but they show no propensity to mate." Snape continued to stir the potion, but now in a clockwise arc.



"Hmm," Neville said, sitting on a stool. "Perhaps they\'re gay."



Snape looked up at him sharply, but Neville was staring at the potion, nose still crinkled.



"And they\'ll drink it? Despite the smell?"



"Certainly not. We hide it in a phial inside a dead ferret. Hippogriffs don\'t chew; they mostly just swallow them whole."



Neville shivered in disgust. He rubbed the back of his head absently and winced.



"How is your head this morning?" Snape asked.



Neville rubbed it a bit more, assessing. "Well, the wound is alright, but the aftereffects of the vodka are a bit harsh."



"Yes," Snape agreed, "it really was quite potent."



Neville swished his tongue over his teeth, repulsed.



"God, it feels like a house-elf took a crap in my mouth while I was sleeping."



Snape rolled his eyes.



"Eloquent as always, I see."



Neville blushed, and then mumbled, "Well, it does!" He looked at Snape hopefully. "Say, you wouldn\'t have any Hangover Remedy in one of those cupboards, would you?"



Snape took his time answering, enjoying the boy\'s pain.



"I should make you brew it yourself. Do you remember the ingredients?"



Neville sighed. This WAS like the world\'s longest detention.



"Uh, Beeswax, evergreen sap, hummingbird down, and um…erm…"



Snape tapped his foot, lips pursed.



"It\'s in the second cupboard to the left, blue bottle."



Neville got up and went to search.



"And for your information, Mr. Longbottom, it is Hornet Paper, Fir Sap, Rosella Down and Green Tea! Your offending concoction might have staved off gingivitis but would have caused your eyebrows to disappear."



Snape suddenly clasped both hands to his chest and grimaced. It felt like he had been kicked in the sternum. He leaned over slightly, hands still clenched, and willed himself to take a deep, relaxing breath. Neville noticed his discomfort and rushed over.



"Are you alright, sir?"



Snape waved him off and eventually was able to stand up straight and breathe normally again.



"What happened?" Neville asked, uncorking the Hangover Remedy and measuring himself out a dose.



Snape rubbed his sore chest. "It seems I may have inadvertently…erm…hexed myself." Neville raised an eyebrow but Snape ignored it.



He put down his ladle and picked up his wand.



"Shall we begin?"



"You don\'t have to erm…stir that anymore?" Neville asked. Snape checked the clock on the wall.



"It should be ready in…six weeks. I think we have time."



Neville did not seem at all surprised.



"Wand at the ready, Neville, let\'s begin. We shall see if the lingering alcohol in your system continues to enhance your skills."



"Legilimens."













The cavern of Snape\'s mind was somehow darker and more foreboding this time.

Neville blindly felt his way along the smooth walls when he realized that his footing was no longer impeded by the slippery rocks of Snape\'s memories. The bottom now seemed to be as smooth as the sides and Neville stopped, wondering how he should proceed. He choked down his rising panic and continued to search the murky water. Eventually he came upon a large, round protrusion and he stopped to examine it. Although it had good form, it also gave slightly beneath his touch. Neville couldn\'t help but be reminded of a huge blister or cyst.



He took out his wand and held it up, but paused, searching his brain for the correct incantation.



"Aqua non-efficio?"



No. That would only work on actual water.



"Liquidus receptum?"



No. He needed it to drain, not recede. His face scrunched in concentration.



"Liquidus vacuus."



His wand vibrated slightly and the liquid began to drain away.



"Lumos," he muttered, bending down to more closely examine the strange abscess. Just below the outer layer, he could almost make out a darker shape. He grunted as he realized what it must be. The memory, of course. It must have damaged and irritated the lining of Snape\'s mind until a skin formed around it, much as a grain of sand inspires a pearl. Neville pressed into the membrane, testing it, then raised his wand above his head and plunged it deep into the heart of the cyst. It burst open with a sickening pop and pus spewed from the jagged hole. Neville gagged and turned his face away, but willed himself not to vomit. He would never hear the end of it if he razzed all over the inside of Snape\'s head.



He reached inside the pustule and grasped the memory, wiping off the excess goo, then reluctantly and with much trepidation, held it up to his head.







It was pressing in on him so tightly that Snape could not breathe. The pressure of it bearing down on him was enough to drive him mad. That, and the burning of his oxygen-deprived lungs, was too much to bear. Then it was gone. He was outside. It was night, and he was dimly aware of the starlit sky as he greedily gulped in the cool air.



Then Lucius pushed at him with his feet and Snape tumbled off of him, onto the dewy grass.



"Get off me, you sodding prick!" Lucius stood up and dusted off his robes. Snape jumped to his feet and Lucius raised his wand in warning. "You\'re not supposed to be here. The Dark Lord will kill me if he finds out you came."



Snape shivered with exhaustion. The past twenty-four hours had been a cyclone of horrible events, and he was still unable to see how his divulgence of the prophecy had caused everything to unravel so unexpectedly.



There was a red flash of light from the humble house behind Lucius and both men turned to see.



"Lucius, we\'ve got to stop him."



"Yes, of course," he laughed.



"Please!" he begged, eyes searching for any evidence of what might be happening inside the house.



"Hey, you told him the prophecy. What did you expect would happen?"



"I…I don\'t know." Snape stammered. "But I sure as hell didn\'t think he would kill a baby! A Goddamned baby!!"



He took a step forward and Lucius raised his wand again.



"I will kill you, Severus, make no mistake. The Dark Lord is about to secure his rightful place as the world\'s most powerful wizard and I will not let you get in his way."



"Lucius, what if it was Draco in there?" he pleaded. "We can\'t let this happen."



Malfoy\'s eyes remained cold and distant. It would seem that sacrificing his own flesh and blood would be an acceptable sacrifice for the Cause.



"It\'s not my child in there. And it\'s not yours either, Severus. You may wish it was, you and that Mudblood, but it\'s not.



Snape looked at Lucius, not understanding.



"And if you ask me," he continued, "Potter is such a self-assured bastard, I personally think he\'s had this coming for years."



"James Potter?" Snape felt the blood drain from his body. "And…Lily?"



Lucius nodded. There was another flash from the house and Lucius turned to look. He never saw Snape coming until he was on his face, spitting grass and blood out of his mouth. Then Snape was on him like a madman, punching and hitting, fists driving like pistons. He knocked Lucius\' wand from his hand and twisted his fingers until he heard them crack.



Malfoy retaliated with a kick to the groin and then another to the solar plexus. Snape rolled off him, gasping for breath. Lucius got to his feet and gave Snape another punt, this time to the kidneys. Snape flicked out an arm and grabbed Malfoy\'s boot, tripping him up and sending him to the ground again. Snape grabbed Malfoy\'s wand and held it to his head.



"Lucius, if you can\'t see how wicked this is, then you deserve to die." He raised the wand slightly and a woman\'s voice behind him rang out.



"Crucio."



Snape stiffened and began to scream from a place within himself that he had never known existed. It was as if every red blood cell in his body had been transformed into a shard of glass and every time his heart pumped, the shards would move, shredding his veins and muscles and organs. It was a pain so exquisite that his mind shut down from the rest of his body, and he was dimly aware that the screaming that he heard must be coming from himself.



And then, just as quickly, it was gone. He moaned and rubbed his face in the wet grass. He could hear Lucius chastising someone for almost killing him, when the Dark Lord himself deserved a go at it. Then the woman (Narcissa? Bellatrix?) said something that Snape couldn\'t make out, but from her tone, he deduced that it was neither kind, nor compassionate.



Snape got his knees underneath him and pushed himself up on shaky legs. His wand was nowhere to be found, and he doubted that he would be able to hold onto it regardless.



"Accio wand," he whispered but all that came out was a bloodless croak. His wand, however, understood perfectly and sprang out of the grass into his grip. Lucius and Narcissa turned at the sound and descended upon him. Snape, desperately aware of the hopelessness of the situation, did the only thing he knew how to; he squared off and faced the flaxen haired couple.



Narcissa opened her mouth to hex him when a blinding flash of light exploded from the house behind them, shattering the windows and sending out a shock wave that sent all three of them flying through the air. Snape was not airborne long, for he made an acquaintance with the trunk of a rather sturdy willow tree.







Snape moaned and spat blood from his mouth. His head erupted into a series of painful stabs and throbs; he tentatively felt the top of his head to assess the damage. His hair was wet and matted, and his hand came away slick with blood.



He tried to get up, but gravity was playing tricks on him and all directions seemed to point down. Eventually, he realized that the hardness underneath him must be the ground and, therefore, anything above must be up. Getting there, however, was a different story. His limbs were slow and thick and did not seem to be obeying his brain. Oy, speaking of brain, his poor cerebellum had suffered its fair share of ill-treatment as well. He surmised that he would be picking bits of tree from his head for weeks to come. If he lived that long, that is…



Oh God! Lily!!



He leapt up as best he could manage and stumbled about like a wino on his unwilling legs. As he approached the house, the smells of sulfur, black magic and burning hair assaulted his nose. The windows were blackened eyes, billowing smoky tears. Snape charged through the hole where the door had been, robes held tightly over his mouth and nose.



"Oh God, Oh Please, Oh God!" he prayed to a deity long forsaken.



The heat hit him like a diesel train. He staggered back and tripped over something on the floor, sending him crashing down on his arse. He cursed under his breath but was relieved to find that the thick, choking smoke was less intense nearer the ground. He rolled onto all fours and crawled on hands and knees, searching as best he could through the stifling veil of smoke. His eyes were practically useless in the darkened rooms, and they watered so severely from the acrid clouds that everything visible seemed to double and triple through his tears.



"Please God, please."



It couldn\'t be much further now. He came across something soft and warm. A body. He made his way up the torso to the face and there was James, staring, unseeing, at the ceiling. His face was contorted from a torturous pain now gone, and Snape ran his fingers over James\' eyes, closing them one final time. Alright, somewhere right around here.



"Oh please, please."



He bumped into something. A table? Chair? He felt his way around the obstruction and suddenly, there they were. Lily\'s eyes. Green as Ireland, just as he had remembered. They blinked at him once and he descended upon them. The ceiling above them collapsed, throwing burning debris to the floor below. Snape Apparated.



They Disapparated just outside the gates of Hogwarts. Snape shook and trembled with exhaustion. Drawing on reserves he did not know existed, he drew his wand and summoned a Patronus. "Minerva," he said and the silvery crow jumped from the gate and flew toward the castle to fetch her.



Snape sank to his knees, willing McGonagall to hurry. He looked down at Lily\'s upturned eyes and a single tear spilled down his face. A hand came up to touch it, and Snape nuzzled the hand with his cheek, gently kissing the palm.



"I\'m so, so sorry." he sobbed.



McGonagall rushed down the steps of the castle, still shrugging on her housecoat. No one ever sent a Patronus to invite you to tea. This was very bad. Severus was in trouble. She began to run when she saw his crumpled form near the gates and she cried out when she saw who he was holding in his arms.



A little baby.



He couldn\'t be more than a year old. He was black with soot and the poor wee soul was bleeding from a jagged gash on his forehead. Snape was rocking back and forth on his knees, clutching the tiny form to his chest. When she got close, she could see that Snape was no better off. Black as a chimney sweep and bleeding from just about every place a person can bleed from. She unlocked the gates and rushed over to the two of them.



"Severus, what in God\'s name-?"



"Please--he needs Pomfrey. Now!"



McGonagall reached for the baby and Snape hesitantly passed him over. "And Dumbledore." Snape took a jagged breath and continued. "He needs…this was Vol…Voldemort."



McGonagall hugged the baby to her bosom, her eyes wide with shock and fear.



"Severus, are you saying-"



"GO!"



She went to speak again and Snape waved her off.



"Minerva, I\'ll be fine. I\'ll be right up. Hurry."



She turned and ran back to the castle. Snape watched her go, dull with exhaustion and pain. He slowly got to his feet and stumbled down to the lake.



The water was cold and he was glad of it. He waded in to his waist, his robes floating around him like black jellyfish, and splashed his face, his eyes, his mouth. He plunged his whole head in the soothing coolness and the sounds of the night were blocked out underwater. This is what Lily hears, he thought. Nothing. This is what Tom hears, too. You bastard. Goddamn Fucking Bastard!



"Goddamn you!" He screamed to the night. He lifted his bruised and bloodied head and howled with a pain so primal that even the creatures in the forbidden forest stopped their nightly forays and took notice. He howled for his loves lost, and he howled from the knowledge that his betrayal was the cause of their deaths. The only two people that he had ever loved, and he had killed them. And he howled because he would not be given a reprieve when he died. Be it heaven or hell, one of the two would be waiting for him. Waiting to accuse him, blame him, indict him. It was his fault. He would walk the earth until his death, fearing who he might see when he passed over to the other side.



He lifted up the sleeve of his robe and the Dark Mark on his arm stared back at him, illuminated in the moonlight reflecting off the water. Snape took his other hand and touched it. The skin was slightly raised and bumpy there, like evil Braille. Snape took his nails and raked them across the mark. Blood welled in the scratches and it felt good. He did it again, harder. And again. And again. Blood ran down his arm and dripped into the clear water where it hung a moment… then feathered out.



Again he dug at his own flesh, crying out with pain and determination. He did not want that man\'s mark on him one second longer. He went to scrape at his arm again and a huge hand closed over his own to stop him. Snape tried to pull away, but another vast hand grabbed his other arm, lifting him up and out of the water.



"Get your grubby paws off me, you half-breed oaf!" he slapped ineffectually at Hagrid\'s massive form.



The hairy giant paid him no heed. He gathered Snape up into his arms and lumbered off toward the castle. Eventually, Snape stopped fighting and surrendered himself to Hagrid\'s embrace.







Neville wrenched himself from the memory just in time to see Snape go crashing to the floor.



"Professor!"



Snape lay on his face, fresh blood oozing from a gash on his forehead. Neville gingerly turned him over and wiped away the blood.



"Sir? Are you alright? Shall I get Madam Pomfrey?"



Snape made an effort to focus on Neville but failed, his eyes rolling back in his skull. Neville tried to prop up his head, but it lolled around awkwardly, so he let it lay in his lap. Then he noticed something curious. Something critical that he had missed until now.



Snape wasn\'t breathing.



"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!!" Neville frantically fumbled for his wand.



Snape kicked his legs and gave a small jerk.



"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" His hand located the wand, but it was tangled in his robes and refused to budge.



"Oh shit, oh god, oh shit!" A thousand years later, Neville managed to free his wand. He pointed it at Snape\'s chest and his mind became a vast ocean of nothingness. Not one single spell or incantation came to mind.



"Ooohhh Shiiiiiit."



What was that Lung-locker anti-hex that they had learned in the D.A.?



"Oh shit, oh shit!"



What is the Latin fucking word for breathe?



Snape began to turn blue.



Think Neville! Don\'t panic and THINK!



Respiro Induvae!



He again pointed his wand at Snape and shouted the words. Nothing happened.



"Come on! Respiro Induvae!"



Snape sat bolt upright and took a long, loud rasping breath in. His hands flew out and he instinctively clawed and grabbed at Neville\'s robes. He took another hacking breath in which quickly turned to coughing and choking, his lungs still stiff and unyielding.



"I\'m going to get Madam Pomfrey."



"NO!" Snape pulled him back down with shaking arms. He sucked in another painful breath and looked Neville in the eyes. "Nobody else knows what happened that night, and I\'ll not have everyone asking questions about what happened here this evening."



"But, sir, I…"



"Damn you," Snape spat and Neville recoiled in shock. "Damn you, for making me remember." His face crumpled and he covered it with his hands. "Damn you, for poking around where you don\'t belong and trodding all over things that you have NO FUCKING BUSINESS KNOWING!" He wrapped his arms around his head and buried his face in his chest. "Damn you," he whispered, and then he began to cry.



Neville sat stiffly for a moment, not knowing what to do. He wanted to comfort the man, but he also wanted to keep his limbs intact. Snape continued to sob into his arms and Neville reached out tentatively to stroke his head. When he didn\'t pull back a stump, he inched closer to Snape and stiffly put his arms around him.



"It\'s okay," he whispered and Snape leaned into him. "It\'s okay, sir." He waited until the weeping subsided then helped Snape to his feet. Neville steadied him when he swooned a bit. "I think you need chocolate, Professor."



"I need to rest," he answered shakily. He made to walk forward but his knees gave out beneath him. Neville grabbed him before he could fall and, with much effort, picked up the Potions master and carried him to his chambers.







Snape awoke to the unfamiliar feeling of a warm body pressed up against his own. His mind ran through the very limited possibilities of who it might be, and when he still came up blank, he snuck a surreptitious peek at his mystery guest.



Neville. Of course. In the peaceful embrace of slumber, he looked more like his fourteen year old self than ever. His long, dark lashes fell across his cheeks like feathers and the first bit of stubble had begun to show itself along his chin. Snape watched his chest rise and fall with each breath and marveled at how Neville\'s pulse was evident in the hollow of his neck, the skin there throbbing with each beat of his heart.



He doubted he would manage to get back to sleep, but the bed was warm and oddly…soothing with Neville there. Snape settled back into his pillow and closed his eyes. Neville shifted in the bed beside him and yawned. Then, without warning, Snape felt Neville\'s lips brush against his neck and he stiffened…literally…everywhere.



His eyes flew open but he dared not move, thinking perhaps that it had been a mistake, or he had imagined it, or perchance he had entered a parallel universe where handsome young men found him desirable. But when a warm hand snaked around his waist and slid up to tentatively touch his chest, he could no longer deny what was happening.



That mad, caged bird was again flapping around in his chest and he willed it to be still. Neville kissed his neck again, this time more insistently, and Snape turned to face him.



"Longbottom, are you sure this-"



Neville kissed his upper lip, gently drew it into his mouth and nibbled on it.



Snape\'s train of thought jumped the tracks and promptly derailed in a smoking pile of diesel fuel and crushed passenger cars.



"-…uh, what do…" Snape finished stupidly.



Neville then kissed his bottom lip, drawing it in as well and giving it a thorough once over.



Snape closed his eyes and allowed his lips to part. Neville\'s tongue gently explored there until it was met by Snape\'s, and they twisted and danced around each other before meeting and becoming one. Neville pressed his body against Snape\'s, and he answered by encircling Neville\'s hips and pulling him even closer. When Neville moaned into his mouth, Snape pulled away slightly, fearing that he might blow his load before even getting to second base. Sensing his hesitance, Neville pulled away as well.



"What is it, professor?"



Snape grimaced, "Please don\'t call me that. \'Professor\' makes me sound so…old."



"Okay, sir."



"No, \'Sir\' isn\'t much better and I\'m not fond of \'Codger\' either."



Neville gazed at him, half smiling, perplexed. "Well, what shall I call you then?"



"My name would be a good place to start."



"Snape?" Neville asked, incredulously.



Snape sighed. Obviously, he would have to explain everything to Neville Longbottom.



"Severus," he said slowly and with much animation, as if Neville were a simpleton.



"Really?"



"Don\'t tell me that in all the years that you have known me you weren\'t aware that Severus was my given name?"



Neville chuckled. "Oh no, of course I\'ve known that. But there\'s a difference between knowing Queen Elizabeth\'s name and walking up to her and calling her \'Liz\'!"



Snape laughed and leaned in to lick down the length of Neville\'s neck, making him gasp. "Well, I suppose that if you were about to shag her, \'Liz\' wouldn\'t be all that inappropriate, now, would it?"



Neville nodded mutely as he felt Snape\'s hips begin to grind against his own. He fumbled with his shirt until Snape pushed his hands away, instead slowly tackling each button with the precision of a surgeon. There was something decidedly sexy about the way he straddled Neville, ebony hair hanging in his face as he methodically worked the buttons of his tunic, each one closer to the place where Snape\'s pelvis was creating that delicious fire. When he reached the bottom, he tugged at the shirttail to untuck it from his pants, then leaned down to lick lazy circles around Neville\'s navel, leading slowly up to one nipple. He flicked it with his tongue then sucked it so hard that it made Neville gasp. He licked his way over to the other one and grazed it with his teeth while rubbing the first with the pad of his thumb.



Neville was practically hyperventilating. "Kiss me," he pleaded and Snape obliged. His lips were hotter now and full of urgency. Their mouths ground together and Neville\'s tongue was soft and welcoming. He reached up to unclasp his robes and Snape waited patiently while he fumbled with the catch. Eventually it came undone and Snape sat up and shrugged it off. He now undid his own shirt buttons with the same meticulous exactitude that he had used on the boy and Neville practically screamed for him to hurry up. He smiled down at him, knowing full well that his torpor was driving him mad. Neville smiled back at him. Git. He\'s playing me, and damnit all, I like it!



Both sets of trousers came off next and the thin cotton of his boxers did nothing to shield Neville from Snape\'s hot breath as he navigated down there. He licked and kissed along the waistband as he slowly worked it lower around Neville\'s hips, but somehow managed to completely miss the throbbing head of his penis which was now more than just peeking out the top. Snape\'s fingers crept under the elastic around his thighs, tickling the hairs there as they dragged the shorts down, and even the friction of the material brushing against his cock as they were finally removed made Neville cry out in delight.



Snape continued to take his time, exploring every inch that was Neville Longbottom. Inner thighs, outer thighs, the delicate trail of hair from his pubis to his navel, Neville squirmed with anticipation. When Snape decided that he had tortured him enough, he took him into his mouth and let his lips and tongue drive him to the next plateau.



Neville groaned with the intense pleasure of what was being performed on him, but it was made all the sweeter by the knowledge that it was the Potions master who was doing it. Wasn\'t life a silly little bitch, he mused, when the person whom he had feared and hated the most (and who had, in all likelihood, hated HIM the most in return) could just ten short years later, have his lips wrapped around his cock and be giving him one of the most intimate and pleasurable things a man could ask for.



Neville reached down and tangled his hands in Snape\'s dark hair. His breathing had become more pronounced and regular and Snape could tell the boy was close. He cupped Neville\'s balls with one hand, gently rolling them from palm to fingers, and snaked one wet finger from the other one down the crack of his arse and into his warm, tight opening.



"Oh Fuck, Professor!" he cried. "Ugh, Snape…sir…oh Crap! Yes!"



He arched his hips and thrusted as he climaxed into Snape\'s mouth. His hands clenched, still snarled in his former professor\'s hair, but Snape remained down there until every last twitch was spent. Then Neville pulled him up and kissed him deeply, tasting himself on Snape\'s talented lips.



"Severus," Snape said into Neville\'s mouth, "my name is Severus."



"Severus," Neville repeated dreamily, feeling himself already beginning to get hard again.



"Neville," Snape returned, trying on the name to see how it felt in his mouth. He liked it. "Neville."



Hearing his name whispered hotly in his ear by the one and only Severus Snape was a mighty powerful aphrodisiac. Neville\'s pulse began to race.



"Severus," he breathed, "make love to me." He reached down and placed one hand on the bulge straining between Snape\'s legs. "I want to feel this inside of me."



Snape grabbed his wand from the nightstand with one shaking hand.



"Accio oil," he called. A small phial flew through the air and into his waiting palm. Snape uncorked it, gave it a small sniff, nodded his approval, and poured a small amount into his hand. Neville cocked his head, questioning.



"Mineral oil," he explained. "Sometimes, if you don\'t specify, you\'ll get cod liver…or worse."



He rubbed his hands together briskly to warm the oil then slipped his fingers down to Neville\'s arse. Neville obediently raised his knees to allow Snape access and sighed as Snape began to rub him. He gently inserted one finger and Neville gasped and pushed against his hand.



"More," he moaned, and Snape slipped another finger inside him while he continued to caress and prepare him. When he was satisfied that Neville was ready, he spread the oil across himself in long slow strokes while Neville watched him hungrily. Snape leaned down over Neville and positioned himself at his opening. He pushed gently against Neville\'s arse and his slick cock slid slowly in.



He covered Neville\'s mouth with his own and kissed him deeply. Neville tipped his hips up, sending Snape in deeper and they both gasped. Snape pushed himself in even further, and then withdrew, waiting a moment before thrusting in again sharply.



And then both of their worlds contained only the sensations of pressure and friction, the wetness of tongues, and the warmth and tingle of sliding limbs and grabbing hands. Snape\'s hair dragged across Neville\'s face as he continued to push inside him and Neville opened his eyes to watch his Potions master\'s features contort with pleasure. Eventually, his rhythm gained momentum and his brow furrowed with concentration. Neville twisted his hips underneath him and Snape tensed, giving a short moan. Neville tilted his pelvis again and this time he gasped and stopped short, mouth clenched in an effort to maintain control.



"Wait," he breathed, grasping the sheets in shaking hands. He inhaled slowly, careful not to move as Neville brought his arms up to lightly trace the length of Snape\'s thighs, buttocks and back. His arms broke out in gooseflesh and he shivered with the pleasure of Neville\'s ghostly touch. His breath began to even out so Neville twisted beneath him again.



"No, don\'t." Snape squeezed his eyes shut, fighting for control of his own body, but every nerve ending seemed to have come alive in the last half-hour… even the feel of the boy\'s breath on his neck was pushing him closer to climax. Neville began to move and rock beneath him, slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, then stronger and more deliberately. Snape opened his eyes and black stared into blue. He could feel Neville searching him and he opened his mind as willingly as Neville had opened his legs. He found it ironic that they could both be inside each other at the same time, but in different ways, and that it could be so erotic.



Neville\'s rocking became more insistent and, again, Snape felt himself losing control.



"Wait," he pleaded, resting his head on Neville\'s chin.



Neville grinned impishly and curved his hips up and clenched around Snape.



"I said…oh God…" He put his full weight on Neville and slipped one hand between them, grasping his former student\'s neglected cock with fingers still slick with oil.



"Severus," he whispered, still smiling.



"Neville," Snape moaned, pushing faster.



"Severus," he panted, grabbing his hips and helping him thrust.



"Neville!" he cried, pumping the hand pinned between them.



"SNEVERUS!" they shouted together as they clutched and grabbed and pushed their way to climax.



They lay that way for some time after, limbs tangled, bodies touching.



Snape was just about asleep when he noticed Neville\'s chest give a little hitch, then a quiet sniff. Snape put up a hand and wiped a tear from his cheek.



"Hey, come now, I wasn\'t THAT bad, was I?" Snape teased.



Neville let out a gurgley laugh and covered his eyes.



"No, of course not. I\'m sorry; it\'s just that…I don\'t know…"



"Oh Jesus," Snape\'s eyes widened in horror, "that wasn\'t your first time…was it?"



Neville laughed again and shook his head.



"No, it\'s not that either. I guess…I guess I\'m just really sorry."



Snape\'s eyes narrowed but his mouth remained soft.



"Well, I personally can think of about a thousand things you could apologize to me for. Seven exploded cauldrons not being the least of it." He settled back comfortably beside Neville and raised his fingers to count upon. "Gross incompetence, late parchments, absolutely dreadful spelling and punctuation…"



"No." He put his hand on Snape\'s arm and leaned up on one elbow to look him in the eyes. "I\'m sorry for ever doubting you."



Snape opened his mouth but had nothing to say.



"I had no idea," he continued, "well, none of us did, of the things that you had gone through, and I feel just terrible…I mean, really, really awful, for not believing…for not trusting…" his eyes began to well up again and the corners of his mouth twitched down.



Snape pushed Neville\'s head down to his chest and stroked his hair.



"Thank you," he said, simply.



"You\'re a hero," Neville whispered into his chest, and it was Snape\'s turn to laugh. "No, it\'s true!" he said, sitting up so that they were again, face-to-face.



"I am many things, Neville Longbottom, but a hero I am not." Neville tried to protest, but Snape put up a finger to shush him. "I don\'t blame you or the others for not trusting me. Hell, I didn\'t trust myself half the time. I am just an old man who made some very poor choices that I will spend the rest of my life trying to atone for."



"Don\'t you see?" Neville asked quietly, putting his head back down on Snape\'s chest. "That is exactly what makes you a hero. You didn\'t take the easy road. You chose to do what you knew was right, even though it meant fighting along side the very people who scorned you and tormented you. I mean, look at your history with Harry\'s Godfather. See? Just the look on your face when I mention him… and you chose to work with him, not against him, even with the way he treated you."



Neville looked up at Snape, smiling. "And to think I wasted all that time being so afraid of you."



Snape pondered this for a moment. "Well, I can be a bit intimidating, can\'t I?"



"Intimidating enough to be my Boggart."



Snape got that smug smile again, and Neville leaned in to kiss it off his face.



"Sir…Severus?"



"Have I been knighted?"



Neville ignored the comment.



"I want to show you something."

…..





The old wardrobe shimmied and trembled before them as Snape looked into Neville\'s reassuring blue eyes. He gave a curt nod and Snape charmed the door open. The blackness inside gave way to dark glittering eyes, and despite his fear, Snape leaned forward to better see his worst nightmare. When the dark, greasy hair and hooked nose emerged, he looked again to Neville in confusion.



"I don\'t understand. This is YOUR Boggart."



Neville shook his head.



"Not any more. He\'s yours now."



Snape bravely looked at his Boggart twin and nodded in agreement.



"Yes, of course. My duplicity and self-distrust."



The two Snapes squared off and after a moment, the real Severus took out his wand.



"Mr. Longbottom, you found a dress to be effective?"



Neville blushed. "A corset and fishnets might work this time."



Snape rolled his eyes. "A fantasy you\'ll have to wait a long, long time to see, I\'m afraid." He pointed his wand at the Snape Boggart and said firmly, "Riddikulus."



The fake Snape began to shrink until it resembled Severus as a young boy. The child jumped up and down and waved its clenched fists in the air, inviting a fight, and Snape laughed heartily at it.



"Yes, I know," he said dismissively. "You\'re an angry young lad, but don\'t worry. I think you\'ll turn out just fine."



Neville opened the door to the wardrobe and Snape shooed the Boggart back inside.



Snape regarded Neville in the dusty cracked mirror.



"You knew?"



Neville nodded solemnly. Snape pondered this a moment.



"Thank you."



Neville nodded again and wordlessly worked his way into Snape\'s embrace. They stood there a while until Neville\'s stomach grumbled.



"I\'m hungry enough to eat a Hippogriff between two mattresses."



Snape led him out of the room.



"I have a better use for two mattresses," he said, and Neville\'s heart leapt as he quickened his pace.





THE END