Down On Your Knees

Tile: Down on Your Knees

Author: Exis* Exis_@hotmail.com

Pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape

Warnings: This fic will contain M/M sex....Gay sex. For thoes who don't like that, you should go away now. It will also highlight a love afair with a teacher so if that makes you unhappy, scram. I haven't finished writing it, but you should assume that it will have spoilers from ALL FOUR BOOKS.....if that displeases you, you can go away as well. My last warning is that this is my first slash fic, and my first Harry Potter fic. I haven't the slightest clue whether it's horrible, and I'd like to pretend it's not....

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, nor am I making any money off this. You know the drill, I won't elaborate.

Dedicated: To my Lovely Beta Tealish. Thanks for your patience, and your trust. And also to ALL THE RAVENCLAWS OUT THERE.......the greatest hero's go unnoticed...and also to the one person who put me on their favorites list.....this is for you.......

Archive: Anywhere you want to....just mail me to let me know


Anything you desire
I will set at your feet
With a kiss in the air
For the gods to recieve
But if there comes a day
You should turn your heart away
I'll be down on my knees" - Weezer DON'T LET GO


Chapter 9 "Turn your Heart away"


Harry’s POV.

This is not happening. Harry felt the blood pumping through his veins and he heard it within his ears. The endless, mindless reminder that he was made of flesh and that he was undoubtedly alive. He balled up the paper in his hands with an aggressive power and hurled at the stone wall. He looked around the room auckeucked his knees into his chest. One tiny little tear escaped his eyes, but it was the only one. Harry would not cry over Snape. Not ever.

The whole room smelled like wet cement. But even over that, the sweet smell of sex lay hovering around everything, fighting it’s way into every crack. Harry breathed in and out slowly, and trying his best to ignore the smell and the aches of his tired muscles. But sitting still was not as consoling as it should have been. Eventually, the tired aches of his muscles were felt, and he was also introduced to just how cold the dungeons were. He decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to begin the search for his clothing.

Luckily, they had only spread it through the bedroom. With every piece he located, a little mini flashback played in his head: a warm, gentle touch, or a faint, loving kiss. All of them replayed themselves in a helter-skelter sequence as he silently got dressed. For some reason, everything had lost its edge. The touch of the fabric seemed dull and the bite of the cold floor seemed distant. Everything seemed just a little grayer. Harry tried to determine whether this was due to the dungeons depressing tone, or the touch of Snape. Harry really did know it was the latter, but the former seemed to be the most appealing, and he decided on it instead.

Once dressed, he decided to brave the mirror. He padded over to the bathroom and looked at his own reflection. His neck was covered in little marks; there were bruises from Snape’s tugging teeth. Tiny red welts sprung up from his forceful lips. And Harry’s lips were still full and swollen from his own zealous kissing. There was no mistaking what he had been doing the night before. He looked for only a minute, and then did the only reasonable thing. He went to work on disguising the precious little marks he so often savored. A few concealing charms and some basic healing spells cleared it up enough that he could walk down the street without drawing attention. However, he wouldn’t get past a close inspection. Not by a long shot.

Suddenly something occurred to him. His friends had no idea where he had been that night. Ron and Hermione would have been frantic at this point. They, however, would just have to tough it out. Harry simply wasn’t up to dealing with their questions. He glanced at the clock that sat on Snape’s beside table. They would have already been on the train, anyway. Perhaps they had used the map to locate him... perhaps they didn’t even notice. Harry figured that at this point it didn’t matter anymore.

Harry realized he had outstayed his welcome and made a move to leave. He took another look at the crumpled paper that lay against the wall. He thought vaguely about setting it on fire, and decided against it. It wasn’t even worth the energy. He walked back down the corridor towards the door that would set him free. Imagines of fleeting touches and warm lips haunted him. Everything moved in slow motion. He glanced at the table. The glasses and bottles had been removed. There was almost no trace that Harry had been there at all. Nothing except that fucking letter...

Harry reached the door handle and turned it, stepping into the warm hallway. He shut the door behind him, walking quickly. He had to get out of here, and he had to do it fast. It wouldn’t be fun explaining why he was down in the bowels of the castle, nor would it be fun explaining his appearance. Time was of the essence.

Skirting down hallway after hallway, he finally made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room. The portrait was gone on summer break and Harry had no problem getting up to his dorm. Everything was empty, aside from his things which were exactly as they were left. It was strange being there after so much had transpired. He piled everything into his trunk and changed his sweater. He took a tiny piece of parchment and scribbled a note.

Albus,
I had to leave quickly, please understand. I can’t take the job; I am sorry I let you down. I am sure you can find someone more qualified. After the war, there should be more than enough candidates. Thank you for the offer.
Respectfully,
Harry

He grabbed his broom and took off for the owlery. He raced up and found Hedwig sitting among the other Hogwarts owls, not looking very happy. He placed her in her cage, and looked at one of the tawny owls sleeping quietly in the rafters. Tapping the nearest one, he attacked the letter to her leg. Both Hedwig and the other owl looked considerably annoyed. “To Albus,” he said, and the owl took off slowly. That gave Harry just enough time to leave. A simple shrinking spell on the trunk and cage and a bonding spell to attach the two items to the broom left Harry ready to go. He hurried to the front steps of Hogwarts.

Before he took off, he felt the pangs of nostalgia in his heart. In his haste to leave, he had forgotten to say goodbye to his one and only haven.

‘Not such a paradise anymore, is it?’ He thought to himself. He shook the thought from his mind. It was too painful to explore, and there were more pressing matters. He said a silent goodbye to the stone halls and Quidditch pitch. He even said a little goodbye to Snape, who was undoubtedly hiding somewhere within the castle, waiting for Harry to leave. Harry thought to himself that maybe he could see him. He turned around and scanned the walls. He couldn’t see anything, but that mattered little. He just had the feeling he was being watched.

So, in the most graceful way, Harry gave the castle a parade like wave. The sarcasm would be evident for anyone looking, but not many would be practiced enough to spot it. Finally, when there was nothing left to say, he turned back around. He bowed his head for a moment, then mounted his broom and set off. He was off to London. Perhaps he was looking for a nice apartment, or a low profile job. Perhaps just a little sanity. At this point, he would settle for almost anything. Maybe he already had.

Once outside the boundaries of Hogwarts, Harry calmly apparated to the middle of Diagon Alley. Normally, he would have set out apartment hunting immediately, but he knew he needed a day to get grounded. He stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and silence overtook the patrons. Harry just approached the bar and sat down for a minute. He addressed Tom kindly, even though at the moment he was more pissed than he had been all day. When would the world quit treating him like some messiah?

“Tom, I would like to get a room for the day. I am really tired, and a drink wouldn’t go amiss, either,” Harry said rubbing his eyes exhaustedly, even though he had gotten a good night’s sleep.

“Of course,” Tom replied, setting a glass of amber liquid in front of Harry. “You can have room eight.”

“Thank you kindly,” Harry said, smiling a little. He took his drink and climbed the stairs. His mind hurt. He reached the familiar room and opened the door. He resized his trunk and let Hedwig out of her cage, opening the window so she could fly around. He sat down on the bed and looked at the drink. He realized he didn’t care in the slightest what it was. He gulped it and felt it swim around him. ‘Brandy,’ he mused. He fell backward onto the bed, and for the first time, really let everything sink in.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, and rubbed his eyes again. Then he looked at the brandy in his hand and thought of the words that had left his lips. The irony sank in. Would that blasted man ever leave his mind? Would Harry really like it if he did? When, finally, Harry had lost the will to contemplate his situation, he fished for a vial in his trunk. He found his glorious sleeping potion, the staple of any truly screwed up person. He downed the whole thing and reality finally released him. His last thought before falling into the abyss was that now that it was all said and done, what was there to do? He was the Boy Who Lived, but the Boy Who Lived for What? Did it matter any more?


Severus’s POV.

Brushing the sleep from his eyes, Severus glanced at his bedside clock. He was expecting some ungodly hour to blink back at him, but the hands distinctly pointed to 8:35. He had slept through the night, for the first time in as long as he could remember. True, he hadn’t gotten to bed till the early morning, but that had never stopped him from waking up at half-hour intervals. Maybe the world was spinning right for him, just this once.

Severus’s illusion that the world was back on its axis didn’t last long at all, however. The minute he moved to get out from his bed and start his day, he bumped into something that was beyond a doubt another person. He glanced next to him to find Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, tucked into his bed, asleep and unmoving. The thin veil of sleep that had covered his mind shattered like glass, and the full weight of the truth fell on his chest.

Visions of the last night spun round his mind at top speed. Draco, the confession, the alcohol, the kisses. Most importantly, the fact that he, an ex-Death Eater had bedded a seventeen-year-old Harry Potter. He wondered if this was fate’s idea of a joke. It certainly wasn’t a very funny one. Perhaps ironic, but definitely not funny. He walked over to the closet and put on a clean robe. A wave of his wand and his clothing from last night disappeared, leaving a very confused Severus Snape standing in his bedroom. He needed to think.

Walking carefully out the door, he turned his attention to the bottle and glasses on the coffee table. He tossed the bottle and did a cleaning spell on the glasses, putting them back in the bar. He sat down on the couch a moment and closed his eyes. Memories of their conversation seeped in. Harry’s friends would have already left on the train. They were probably concerned about him when he didn’t show up, but sneaking around was not necessarily against Harry’s character. Besides, he wouldn’t be leaving Hogwarts yet, anyway. At least, he wasn’t supposed to.

‘That’s right,’ Severus thought to himself. ‘He has to turn down the DADA job today.’ That, above all the things Harry had told him last night, irked him the most. It was clear just by talking to Harry that he desperately wanted the job. He wouldn’t be a baacheacher, either. As much as he loathed the idea of another Gryffindor on the staff, he would rather have Harry than whatever other incompetent imbecile Albus would hire out of desperation. But all and all, Harry was right. He had to keep a low profile

But Severus knew Harry. The truth would come out, either in the form of a confession or it would force its way through his sanity. And either way, Harry would have to stand the wake. Severus knew the longer he hid it, the worse it would be. He knew that from experience.

‘And when it does come out, maybe it won’t be so bad,’ Severus thought optimistically, something he almost never did. ‘Maybe Harry still has hope for a normal life.’

The sound of his grandfather clock rang through the room. It was nine o’clock. Harry would be up soon, and he had to make a decision before he woke up. He could picture the reaction he would get from Harry. Loving and sweet, not able to grasp the seriousness of what they had done. Gryffindors had a nasty habit of letting emotions cloud their judgment. It was thinking about that, Harry’s loving embrace and soft kisses, that made the answers clear for Severus.

He had to be gone when Harry woke. They both wanted one another, and that was dangerous, because Harry wouldn’t say no, and Severus didn’t know if he could when faced with the decision. Harry still had a prayer in the public eye, but throwing himself into the equation would be detrimental and Snape knew that. Severus also knew he was an ex-Death Eater, and if Harry wasn’t guilty by his actions, he most certainly would be by association. He’d just have to make Harry leave and forget about him. Crushes never lasted long with teenagers, right? Harry’s lust had been sated, and now that Harry had gotten what he wanted, he could walk away and continue life. Besides, a relationship wouldn’t work onywanyway. The more Severus thought about it, the clearer it became. It still didn’t resolve the dull ache of his mind, but he was used to ignoring his own pain for the greater good. Severus was sure that in time, that, too, would die.

Severus rushed to his desk. A note seemed perfect. Impersonal, yet unignorable. He grabbed a sheet of parchment, and began to write ‘Dear Harry,’ at the top, and then stopped and crumpled the note. He wasn’t ‘Harry’ anymore.

Potter,
You’ve just found yourself awake in my bed. I am gone, don’t look for me. I don’t wish to see you. What we dis a s a mistake on my part. You were drunk and I should have known better. Please accept my apologies. You and I will never have anything beyond a professional relationship and that is non-negotiable. Dress yourself and leave at once. Any information exchanged last night will remain private; the potion for your godfather will be shipped on time.
S. S.

‘That should do nicely,’ Severus thought, and placed the note in an envelope. He walked silently into his bedchambers and placed the note right by Harry’s glasses. He made a point not to look at the sleeping figure. ‘No point in making this any more painful,’ he thought. He turned, and walked from the room and down the hall to his front door. He stepped out, and closed the door silently. Everything was silent and gray. He walked up to the top of the South Tower and sighed. No one ever came up here, ever. He guessed that Harry would most likely leave, not wanting to stick around and face him. Severus would hide in the dungeons for a while, just to be sure. He’d just wait in the tower until he was sure Potter was awake and gone.

But, after less than forty-five minutes of waiting, he saw Harry Potter making his way out of the castle, trunk and broom in hand. He even waved, like he knew that Severus was there. Severus’s sharp eyes could just make out his face. The look burned his heart with sadness. Before Severus would have had time to react, Harry was off, flying away from his home. Severus’s head felt heavy. But then he reminded himself of his duty; he had done the right thing.

Severus just turned and walked back toward the dungeons, praying he didn’t meet Albus on the way. Albus would certainly have guessed what happened. The blasted man knew everything. He’d keep himself busy. He had some Liquefying Draught to make, and he wanted to get the Lazarus grated and stored by the evening. Maybe then he would be ready to brave the Headmaster. Maybe by then he’d feel a little bit better. He really couldn’t figure out why he felt so guilty - certainly not for hurting the boy. That had never bothered him before. He hurt the boy to help him, after all. ‘Harry’ll be thanking me by Christmas,’ Severus thought.

He did what he had to... that’s what he’d always done. But, he couldn’t help but wonder whether it was really worth all this work and angst. Was any of it really worth anything anymore? “It had better be,” Severus said to himself. “For his sake and mine.”


***Authors Note***
*Sigh*, a glimpse of happiness, and WOOSH, it's gone. There is just something about this paring that makes me want to do that. Well, here you go, another chapter. I will try to get the next one out, MUCH QUICKER. I had a hard time writing this. I've gotten the most wonderful response from all of you, and I promise not to leave you hanging too long. Even if it's kind of fun to watch you wiggle.