LOWER HIM DOWN (WITH LINKS OF CHAIN)

WARNINGS: graphic bestiality, bondage, felching, snowballing, rimming, double-penetration
DISCLAIMER: Just as surely as she owns them, I make no money from them (ungrateful
little sluts)
AN: This was intended to be PWP bestiality, just to see if I could do it. It ended up with a
plot and I squicked myself in the process of writing it. You’ve been warned.
Title is from the traditional American folk song “Old Blue”. Lyrics reprinted at the end of
the fic for the curious.

~*~*~*~

The discreet sign to the right of the door said, Museum of Oddities, Established 847. Abernathy Kynx, curator. The man who entered the shop was thin, of medium height, and ill-featured but with the undeniable presence of a much larger man.

An immense, antique desk dwarfed the narrow room as well as the tiny, wizened man sitting behind it. The little man gave off the sense of someone unclean. His skin was almost grotesquely wrinkled, and spotted to the point of looking disease ridden. The client curled his lip with disgust as the curator half-rose in greeting. Blue eyes gleamed with recognition from inside deep folds of skin.

“Abernathy Kynx at your service. What can we help you with today, Prof-“

Severus Snape glared down his hooked nose at the dishevelled man - if he even was a man - behind the desk. It was not surprising the man recognized him - Snape knew himself to be somewhat notorious among the denizens of Knockturn Alley - but few knew him by name and even fewer dared use it. “If that’s an example of your discretion, there are
other curators that would gratefully accept my business.”

The curator flashed disgustingly filthy teeth as he vainly tried to make his smile ingratiating. “No, no, sir. I apologize. Momentary lapse. I assure you, it won’t happen again, Mister...?”

“Any name I gave you would certainly be false, so let’s dispense with the absurdities. You may address me in whatever innocuous way you choose, or refrain from addressing me at all beyond a simple yes or no.” The smaller man seemed to shrink even further into himself at the client’s repressive look.

“Certainly, sir, certainly. So, back to the matter at hand. What is it you desire of us today.”

“I require an animagus. Male. One whose animagus form is mammalian. One who is willing to be experimental. I will require his services for a week at minimum, possibly longer.”

The curator briskly rubbed his hands together in apparent delight. And well he should be delighted, Snape thought. This transaction meant significant sums of money. The request for an animagus wasn’t particularly noteworthy - this little museum catered to many of the more perverse needs of the wizarding community - what boded well financially was that the artifact must accept whatever experimentation the client wished. This could range from being a laboratory rat to a willing torture victim. And for at least a week. A profitable request indeed.

“We can certainly provide you with the desired artifact, Pro... sir, although it will not be so easy to obtain. Naturally you understand that there will be expenses comparable to the rarity of the item you require.”

“I understand that you will make an obscene profit from the degradation of some no-doubt starving unfortunate, however, that is not my concern. You may name your price, as long as it’s within reason. I am well aware of the value of the item in question, so it will not benefit you to be excessively demanding.”

The old man looked affronted. “I would never cheat a client, sir.”

The client merely raised an eyebrow. “Today is Tuesday. I will return Friday to retrieve my merchandise.”

“Friday!” The voice came out in a squeak. “These kinds of things take time, sir!”

“Don’t be absurd. If I had the leisure time, I could undoubtedly bypass you completely and find my own artifact in that space of time. Unfortunately, I am too busy to do the search myself. I will, however, give you two percent over your asking price in exchange for your diligence. There will be no need to include the gratuity on your bill.”

Abernathy Kynx looked suitably gleeful at that pronouncement. It meant two percent of the sale could go directly into his own pockets. This was above and beyond his own share of the profits.

“Friday it will be, sir. Shall we say two o’clock?”

“Two o’clock on Friday, then. Don’t disappoint me, Mr Kynx. If I am satisfied, I may be able to throw an extensive amount of business your way in the future.”

Without waiting for a response, Snape spun on his heel and stalked out of the Museum of Oddities.

~*~*~*~

In the aftermath of Sirius Black’s death in the Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter’s behaviour spiralled downward from obnoxiously unpleasant to “he’s become a danger to himself and others.” Snape was stunned when he saw the wreck Harry had made of the Headmaster’s office and he reluctantly agreed to Dumbledore’s request that he resume Occlumency lessons with the boy. It was, after all, clear that Potter’s trust and respect for Dumbledore had been severely damaged. It was equally clear from red-rimmed eyes, stumbling gait, and frequent headaches that the boy was having nightmares again. Dumbledore would have difficulty being hard on the boy under the circumstances. Snape had no such problems.

In the first two months of the summer holidays, the Ministry had been alerted no fewer than a dozen times about the improper use of magic at Number 4, Privet Drive. Ministry officials had been forced to restore Potter’s cousin, Dudley, to human form after he had been transfigured into something resembling the by-product of an abattoir. Potter’s uncle had been found wandering Muggle London in a daze, propositioning random lampposts and the occasional pillar box. There had been explosions, fires, a bathtub full of piranhas, and the boy’s aunt had twice been rendered bald-pated and full-bearded. It took all of Albus Dumbledore’s influence and powers of persuasion to keep the boy from being taken into the Ministry’s custody. Snape could only assume it was Fudge’s embarrassment that Potter had been proved right about the Dark Lord’s return, that kept the boy from a disciplinary hearing.

In the two weeks prior to the start of term, whilst Potter was again staying at 12 Grimmauld Place, Snape noted with amusement the boy’s estrangement from the Granger and Weasley brats, as well as every member of the Order. The only person to whom Potter would deign to speak civilly was Lupin, and then only rarely.

In the weeks just after the start of term, prior to resuming Occlumency lessons, Snape had watched through narrowed eyes as Potter hexed fellow students with little, or no provocation. Snape listened with pleasure to the complaints in the staff room regarding Potter’s lack of attention in classes. He added, with malicious humour, his own observation that the golden boy was rivalling Longbottom in his ability to wreak havoc during Potions, and that due to multiple weekly detentions, Filch was beginning to consider Potter his own personal house-elf.

During the first few Occlumency lessons, Snape trolled Potter’s mind with impunity, relishing the discovery of each and every dirty little secret. He now had the satisfaction of knowing the secret of the Marauder’s Map; had conclusive proof that the boy had an invisibility cloak; obtained the surprising information that it had been Granger and the house-elf Dobby who had stolen Potions ingredients from his private stores. Snape knew that Potter and Granger had helped Sirius Black escape in their third year, and knew that various and sundry had helped the boy cheat during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He also discovered that Potter had a creative and quite perverse fantasy life.

Constantly and creatively, Snape taunted Potter about his weak defences and childish secrets. The brat didn’t seem to care, and made no attempts to throw Snape out of his mind until the day Snape discovered some very private facts about Potter’s particular regard for his godfather, facts that explained Potter’s extreme response to the death of a man whom, after all, he barely knew. On that occasion, Potter finally reacted, throwing Snape forcibly out of his thoughts and bringing the Potions master to his knees before storming out of the room. Once again, the lessons stopped. Nothing that Dumbledore said would induce Harry to return. The boy seemed unable to meet Snape’s eyes after that, but at least the explosions in Potions class were cut in half. It was clear that Potter would do anything to avoid detentions, or any discourse, with Snape.

It wasn’t until Potter broke all 27 bones, one-by-one without the use of magic, in Draco Malfoy’s right hand, that Snape decided things had gone far enough. Grief and boorish behaviour were one thing - and Snape privately agreed with Potter’s assessment that, “The little fuckwit had it coming” - but injuring Lucius Malfoy’s son was something entirely different. Even Dumbledore was considering the boy’s expulsion. The entire staff was shocked to discover it had been Snape who talked the headmaster out of it, promising to take the boy in hand himself. It was the talk of the staff room for days and bets were taken.

***

The boy, Snape decided, was, as most teenagers were, at the mercy of his hormones. Ergo, the most effective way to control him would be through careful exploitation of his sexual desires. Snape knew the Headmaster would not approve his methods but he also knew Dumbledore was at his wits end, and Albus had a convenient way of not seeing that which he had no wish to see, as evidenced by the blind eye he turned toward Snape’s occasional extra-curricular visits to Knockturn Alley. Snape’s conscience operated much the same way, and this was an opportunity too enticing to deny. He insisted on autonomy, insisted that Potter would report to him nightly during the week, that the weekends would be spent doing manual labour, and that the boy was to be kept as far away from his meddling friends as was possible while still sleeping in Gryffindor Tower. Albus agreed to all of it.

In the beginning Snape used drugs and potions - stimulants, depressants, aphrodisiacs, sensory enhancements. They made the boy quiet, compliant, willing. In the beginning there had been gentle touches, whispered words of encouragement. In the beginning, Potter’s fears had been catered to, his touch-deprivation indulged. In the beginning his orgasms had been sweetly coaxed from him and shortly thereafter, when he no longer needed to be coaxed, allowed freely.

Gradually, these things had been whittled away. The aphrodisiacs had been the first to go. It had been months since they were needed. Now, every time Potter saw Snape, the boy’s cock sprang immediately to attention, hard and dark and weeping at the tip. Snape knew this, even when black school robes covered the evidence. Potions class, meals in the Great Hall, Snape’s offices or quarters, it was all the same, the boy squirmed with desire he was unable, and perhaps even unwilling, to repress.

Muggle stimulants and depressants were next to fall by the wayside. The boy no longer required alcohol or amphetamines to allow himself freedom from his own inhibitions.

Then, Snape withdrew the teasing touches and orgasms freely given. Potter learned to work for his pleasure. He was still allowed to touch Snape, when Snape required it, but he was rarely touched himself anymore. If he wanted release he had to satisfy the Potions master greatly and within parameters that were never explained. If Snape was not satisfied the boy was sent back to the dorms, cock still hard and aching under his robes, usually with the instruction that he was not to touch himself when he was alone.

“Your cock, your arse, your tits, your mouth, your release, are all mine, Potter. They’re mine and neither you, nor anyone else, will have the benefit of them, except on my say so.”

Harry cursed, and cried, and begged, and raged, but he also obeyed. Alone in his quarters, after Potter’s leave-taking, Snape would often stroke himself slowly as he imagined the boy writhing desperately on his bed in the dorms, aching for release, desperate to touch himself but unwilling to risk Snape’s wrath the next time they met. Potter was no good at dissembling, and Snape always knew. The rush of desire and pulsing release from these fantasies were almost sweeter than the boy himself.

Gradually, Potter became intent on pleasing Snape, on earning Snape’s pleasure. He seemed to live for the increasingly rare moments when his stern professor allowed him to come and then gently stroked his forehead and told him he was a good boy. Snape was parsimonious with his praise and well knew it made his murmured approval that much more desirable.

Often, he would leave the boy kneeling and bound for hours while he worked on a potion. Usually, on his return to his quarters, Snape would unbind the boy, careful not to touch him more than necessary, and send him off with a disdainful, “You’re done for the evening. Go get some sleep.” Potter’s cock was always hard and dripping, and he never seemed able to stop the tears that sprang to his eyes at these abrupt dismissals, but he never begged.

Sometimes, Snape would let the boy suck him off, tangling his long fingers into the messy black hair as he wantonly fucked into that hot, wet mouth, not caring if he hurt the boy, intent only on the incredible feeling of his cock deep in Potter’s throat as the boy choked and gagged and struggled for breath.

Occasionally, Snape would fuck the boy. He was always rough but always careful, making it as painful as possible without ever tearing anything, without causing any damage not easily reparable with a spell. If the boy came without permission, Snape would slowly and methodically flog him, raising welts and covering that pale flesh with purple bruises, but never laying open the flesh. Potter always denied it but Snape suspected the boy sometimes didn’t try to fight off his impending orgasm, secretly longing for the feel of the cat on his back, arse, thighs, belly, and cock - retribution for his many sins.

Rarely, no more than once out of every 20 sessions - although never in a predictable pattern - Snape would allow the boy to touch himself, to pump his reddened cock until he spilled his bitter seed under Snape’s stern gaze.

Rarest of all, denying himself as painfully as he denied Potter - although he would have bitten through his tongue rather than admit it - Snape would simply touch the boy. He was always gentle, always kind in these moments. Lingering touches, soft strokes across nipples and belly and ribs and back and arse. Wet, long licks of Snape’s tongue across old bruises and welts. He took Potter’s orgasms from him, and gave them back as a gift. It was these times, these rare moments, that he murmured to the boy, “You’re such a good boy, Harry. Such a good little boy. I’m so proud of you.” Harry always shook and wept with pleasure, arching into Snape’s hands and whispering desperately, “Thank you. Thank you.”

It had taken months but gradually Potter was tamed. He learned that his pleasure belonged to Snape. He strove to please, to earn his reward. His green eyes would follow Snape longingly, where ever he was, regardless of who could see. It was dangerous, but Snape could not resist it, and never ordered him to stop. When he was allowed to touch himself, his yearning was visible in the way his body strained in Snape’s direction. Whenever he was abruptly dismissed, he looked as if his heart would break. Whenever he was touched, his smile was blinding.

It was indeed dangerous, but whatever the other professors thought, however startled Potter’s cohort was, nobody said anything in the face of the Boy-Who-Lived’s return. Potter was neat, well-spoken, courteous, and studious, albeit a bit reserved. Even the Granger and Weasley brats left well enough alone. Who would complain, or even ask questions, when everybody had what they wanted?

It had taken several long months but Potter was tamed. Yet Snape still felt a niggling worm of dissatisfaction. Tamed, but not broken. Willing to submit, but not submissive. Complete capitulation hovered just around the corner and Snape burned with hunger for it.

***

“No more drugs, Potter, no more artificial assistance. It’s time for you to admit your desires.”

“I won’t admit to wanting what I don’t want, Snape,” Harry snapped at his professor.

“No doubt, Gryffindor, however, I am only insisting you admit to that which you do want. No drugs. No more artificial assistance. No more touching until you give me utterly what is mine.”

“Fuck you, Severus.”

“No. Go back to your dorm. I’m through with you.” Snape enjoyed the flash of panic and dismay in the boy’s eyes. He knew Potter would be plagued with the idea that the dismissal was permanent.

It was two months before he summoned the boy again.

***

The first week of his banishment, Potter seemed unchanged. By the second his previous bad behaviour began to reassert itself, and Snape gave him detentions with Filch but otherwise ignored him, ignored the pleading look in the boy’s eyes. The rest of the staff said, What happened Severus? You’ve lost him, Severus. It was going so well, why’s he acting out now, Severus? To each of them Snape said, “It will be fine,” not knowing if the promise was confidence or blind folly.

By the fourth week, Potter was sullen and withdrawn but no longer acting out. His eyes still followed Snape and he no longer smiled.

Snape had missed the boy immediately. His chambers seemed unnaturally quiet without Potter’s soft breathing. He missed both the compliance and the rebellion. Even though it was weeks before he would have allowed Potter his next orgasm, Snape missed the blinding smile only he himself could produce.

Knockturn Alley, once a regular haunt, and in more recent times a place visited no more than two or three times a year, began to see much more of Severus Snape. He picked up rent boys in the street, sometimes three or four at once, and did unspeakable things that left the urchins bruised and bleeding but well paid. Brothels that catered to some of the more esoteric wizarding tastes, welcomed back a long lost patron. For the first time since he had left the Death Eaters, Snape allowed most of his more perverse desires free reign. While he denied Potter everything, he denied himself nothing - except Harry. If Albus knew, as Snape suspected he surely did, he said nothing.

At night, Snape took to pacing the same ten foot length of carpet in his quarters. Every evening he replayed the events of the last months, thinking particularly on the revelations of the aborted Occlumency lessons. In between bouts of pacing, he sat stock still in his chair contemplating the surprisingly large Potter-shaped hole in his existence.

One night, he sat late at his desk poring over old tomes and long abandoned notes in his Potions journal. He reviewed Potter’s Occlumency lessons in his pensieve. Grief was one thing, but Potter had an unhealthy obsession with Sirius Black. That was the thing in a nutshell. He needed to break the obsession, or better yet, transfer it. Snape sat and he pondered and he smoked an endless number of cigarettes. It was almost dawn when a slow smile crept across the Potions master’s face. He closed his books, rolled parchments, capped his ink bottle, and sat back in his chair. He had a plan. The rising sun found him striding quickly to the Hogwarts gates. He Apparated in Knockturn Alley, to the new shop of an apothecary of his acquaintance - a man known for his willingness to deal in questionable materials.

***

Snape stood waiting outside the shop of William Orpheus Rupert Manfred Wood, and laughed at the wooden sign over the doorway. He wondered if Wood’s parents had thought themselves witty.

“Appropriate, don’t you think?”

Snape turned to greet the man who had just clapped him on the shoulder.

“I was entertaining myself with speculation on your parents’ wit. No doubt your own peculiar sense of humour had you partner with a man named Gall.”

William Wood laughed. “Believe it not, Severus, that was sheer serendipity. I advertised - anonymously I should add - a business opportunity for investors, knowing that my solicitor’s name would advise most of the nature of the opportunity. Nathaniel Gall was the only one to respond. God, or the fates, or what have you, can be credited with the peculiar sense of humour. The sign, however, was Nathaniel’s idea.”

Snape stepped off the kerb and looked up again at the sign swaying gently in the breeze. W.O.R.M. Wood, N. Gall, Apothecaries.

“I wonder whether that will draw customers, or drive them away.”

Wood laughed as he unlocked the door to the shop. “Well, at least you’re here, Severus. As soon as word of that gets ‘round, I’m sure others will flock to our door. Come in. Come in.”

Snape pulled a list out of his pocket and handed it to Wood. “Can you get me these? I need them in rather a hurry, Friday at the latest or they’ll be of little use to me.”

Wood glanced over the list and raised an eyebrow. “Polyjuice? No, not with this.” He tapped a finger over one of the ingredients. “Care to share information, Severus?”

“Why, have you something I might be interested in?”

“Just whether or not I have the ingredients in stock.” Wood smirked.

“You’re a hard man, William. Yes, Polyjuice. My own little improvement on it, I hope.”

“Schizandra chinensis, for stamina, yes? Now, why would you need to add an herb for stamina to Polyjuice?”

“I’m not even in the experimental phase yet, William, merely pursuing ideas. I’ll make you a deal. Due to, well, let’s just say recent events, I find my purse is soon going to be a bit lighter than I would wish. Make me a deal on these ingredients, and I swear to you, if my improvement is successful, I’ll explain everything and give you rights to first refusal.”

“Wish I had the rights to your enhanced Wolfsbane. Very well, you have a deal. I happen to have all of this in stock. You will, of course, be very careful who knows your source.”

“I’ll be the soul of discretion, Wood. I have no more desire than you for the Ministry to cut off supply.”

***

An hour later, a paper bag of ingredients clutched tightly to his chest, Snape Apparated at the Hogwarts gates. Instead of returning to his chambers he went immediately to his laboratory and started to work.

Experimentation consumed him. For hours at a time he was able to forget the boy. The visits to Knockturn tapered off. Sleep was captured at odd moments. He transfigured a small table in his lab into a camp-bed where he could spend a few restless hours each night, while multiple cauldrons simmered. And now, he had all the remaining ingredients to hand, all but the artifact, the animagus.

***

Snape leaned away from a steaming cauldron and wiped sweat from his brow. His eyes were as red-rimmed as Potter’s after weeks of nightmares. Forty-eight consecutive hours without sleep took a much greater toll now than it once had. Still, exhausted as he was, there was no time to lose. Dashing cold water on his face in lieu of the shower he longed for, he pulled off his work apron and donned his robes.

Exactly five weeks and a day from his visit to W.O.R.M. Wood, N. Gall, Snape had 12 carefully documented variations of the same potion near completion. Walking wearily in the pre-dawn grayness of the morning to the Hogwarts gates, he once again he Disapparated. When he Apparated into Knockturn Alley he was standing in front of a door with a small sign reading: Museum of Oddities.


~*~*~*~


“Lie down and wait.” Snape’s voice seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness of his chambers. He noted, but otherwise ignored, Harry pivoting his head, straining to locate his whereabouts in the echo-y room.

An extremely large black dog padded over to the spot Snape had indicated and lay down quietly where he couldn’t be seen.

Snape sat comfortably in his chair and let his knees fall open, giving his hardening cock more room under his robes. He ran one hand through his lank black hair and let the other trail over the side of his chair and rest on top of the dog’s stomach. His eyes glinted as he watched the boy in front of him.

Potter was tied ankles to wrists. There was enough slack in the rope for the boy to keep his back straight as he knelt - blindfolded and gagged as well as bound - in front of Snape. The boy’s cheeks were flushed with anger and his whole body trembled violently. Snape quite liked that. Tonight Potter would break at last, and it would be all the sweeter for his current token resistance. Unfortunately, the two months of separation had changed things and the boy’s cock was not at all hard. On the contrary, it seemed to be trying to shrink itself back into the generous ball-sack that dangled between his spread legs. Snape was sure his guess about the boy was right and soon enough that scared and shrivelled cock would come out of hiding.

“Are you ready to see what I’ve brought you, Potter?” he asked quietly.

Potter flinched at the sound of his voice but otherwise didn’t move.
Snape lightly dragged his fingernails across the dog’s furry belly and watched the boy. “You’ve only to nod or shake your head, boy. Are you ready?”

Potter remained defiantly still.

Snape laughed softly. “I already know you’re strong-willed, boy, but I’m in a comfortable chair, with a drink at my side and several books within easy reach. I can stay here for hours. You, on the other hand, are naked, bound, gagged, blindfolded, and shivering on a cold stone floor. How long can you last, boy?” Snape gave a casual wave with his wand and the gag in Harry’s mouth clattered to the floor.

Potter moved his mouth as if to say something, but no sound escaped. His red tongue flicked out and moistened his lips. He tried again. “Please.” The word came out in a cracked whisper that Snape could barely hear over the quiet panting of the large dog by his chair.

Snape stood up abruptly. Potter flinched at the sound of movement and Snape smiled cruelly. One step toward the boy brought him close enough to remove the boy’s blindfold. Snape laughed softly. Potter’s eyes were exactly at groin level and the boy stared at the hard lump straining there, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed painfully.

“Yes. That’s for you, but not yet. Did you miss me, boy? Did you think I was never going to summon you back?”

Potter tore his eyes away from Snape’s tented crotch and looked up, tears glistening on his long lashes. Snape watched the boy struggle to find his anger, and watched with pleasure as the struggle failed.

“Yes,” Harry whispered, still dry-mouthed from the hour he had spent gagged. “I thought you hated me, that you were angry. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to come to you, beg you to take me back, but I couldn’t bear the thought you might send me away again.”

Snape gently pushed the sweaty fringe away from the boy’s forehead and then ran his index finger over the famous lightning bolt scar, down the nose, and tapped gently on the boy’s lips.

Potter shivered and opened his mouth. Snape stopped his finger tapping and ran a long thumb across the boy’s lips. Potter made a choking noise.

“You’re such a brave boy,” Snape said, his voice a caress against the boy’s ear. “I’ve missed you.” He ran his hand across Harry’s cheek, stroking the tense neck, brushing lightly across tiny nipples, coaxing them into hardness. Harry’s breath became ragged and harsh as he helplessly pushed against Snape’s gentling hand.

“Tonight, Potter, is either an ending, or a beginning. Your choice.”

Snape leant down, and for the first time ever, kissed Harry’s mouth, pushing his tongue teasingly between the boy’s lips. Harry whimpered and returned the kiss hungrily, desperately, doing his best to prolong it, deepen it.

“Your choice, boy. Ending. Or beginning. I can give you would you want most in the world, but you have to choose. I know what I would choose. I only hope you won’t disappoint me again.”
Tears streaked Harry’s cheeks and dripped onto his chest. “I’ll try,” he whispered.


~*~*~*~


“Ah, welcome back, Prof- er, sir. You’ll be pleased to hear we’ve located an appropriate artifact.”

“With the money I’m paying you, I expected no less. Let’s not waste time. Where is he?”

“Please, let me get you some refreshment, tea perhaps, or something stronger...?”

“I won’t ask you again. Time is of the essence. Bring the whore out and let me see him.”

“We don’t refer to the artifacts that...”

“Shut up, for the love of God, and let me conclude this transaction with all possible haste. Quite frankly, Mr Kynx, being in your presence makes me feel decidedly ill. I’d like to quit it as soon as possible. Get the man. Now.”

Looking disgruntled, Kynx disappeared through a previously hidden doorway, returning a few moments later, pushing a skinny, flea-bitten looking man in front of him.

“This is...”

“Frankly, I could not care less what his name is.” Snape turned and looked up at the newcomer, whose extreme thinness was emphasised by his height. “You will take a new name for the duration, man. Do you understand?”

The gaunt man merely nodded.

“For God’s sake, Kynx, have you nothing better to clothe him in? I can’t be seen walking around with a man in rags.”

“Well, now, for a better quality of clothing I’ll have to add ...”

“You’ll add nothing to the bill, Kynx. You’ve already strained the outside limits of my...generosity. Find him some decent clothes, and do it in a hurry. No, leave him here. I’ll begin the interview while you’re searching for something more suitable.”

Snape stood and walked around the skinny man. “What’s your animagus form?”

“A fox, m’lord.”

Snape started and then laughed. “M’lord? Where are you from, man? There’s only one Lord these days, and I’m most certainly not he.”

“Sorry, m’lo...mister. I meant no disrespect. Kynx there thinks the clients like it. And truth be told, a lot of seem to.”

“I’m sure that’s true,”Snape said sardonically. Do you know what your purpose is for the next week?”

“Well, the usual, I suppose.” He gave Snape an enquiring look.

Snape nodded. “Yes, the usual. You are to be a gift for a...friend of mine.” He glanced cautiously at the door behind which Abernathy Kynx had disappeared. A public establishment was no place to have this conversation, especially this particular establishment. It was quite likely Kynx was listening in. Information was, after all, Knockturn Alley’s most valuable commodity.

Snape cast a silencing charm and even so, dropped his voice to barely more than a whisper. He gave the animagus a hard look. “A young friend. I assume that will not be a problem for you.”

“How young, sir?” The man held up his hands in a placating gesture at Snape’s sharp look. “No judgement at all, sir, none. I only ask because, well, foxes can be very protective of kits. If your friend is very young I might have ah, problems performing.”

Snape looked slightly ill at the suggestion. “My friend is not that young. If that’s your only concern, I’m sure there will be no problem. If we had a more enlightened Ministry, this issue would not have come up.”

“Mmm. I’ve heard men lusting after nine-year-olds say much the same thing.”

Snape glared dangerously at the animagus. “You presume too much on my good nature. If I wanted conversation, whore, I would seek out a peer, not some mangy freak peddling his possibly disease-ridden arse.”

The animagus lowered his eyes and hunched his shoulders. “Sorry, sir. You’re right. I was out of line.”

Biting back another retort, Snape asked, “You are aware of the other conditions of your...employment?”

“Yes, sir. Experimentation.” He looked up at Snape. “If I might ask...” He waited for Snape’s nod before continuing, “what kind of experimentation?”

“With the sums I’m paying, does it matter?”

“Yes, sir, begging your pardon, sir. Money won’t do me much good if I’m seriously maimed, or dead.”

“Nothing lethal, and nothing permanent, I assure you. You will suit my purposes just fine. If the terms of service are agreeable to you, I would like to leave immediately. I do not like the...atmosphere in this place.” Snape glanced around the room, looking at the dusty shelves and grimy floor with disgust.

“Are we agreed? Good. I’ll have to call you something. Pick a name, or if you’d rather, I can pick one for you.”

“You can call me Blue, sir.”

Snape paled. He looked suspiciously at the animagus but the man’s face was guileless. “Blue.”

“Yes, sir, if that’s all right with you.”

The animagus looked startled when Snape burst into paroxysms of laughter. “Blue. That’s perfect, actually,” Snape managed to choke out eventually. He shook his head, still amused. “Blue. Very well, Mr Blue, I’ll conclude my transaction with Mr Kynx, and we’ll be on our way.”

Snape released the silencing spell and called out the curator’s name. Kynx entered the room, looking somewhat disgruntled, and carrying a bundle of clothing which he hurled at Blue. No doubt the silencing spell had annoyed him.

“Mr ah, Blue, will suit my purposes. Bring me your bill.”

Kynx handed Snape a parchment with a short column of figures and nothing else except a brief notation For Services Rendered. Snape raised an eyebrow at the total but decided not to quibble - he knew full well he was paying for discretion. He opened his money bag, extracted a few galleons, and then flung the bag at Kynx’s chest without closing it again. Coins spilled everywhere. Snape watched with satisfaction as Kynx dropped to his knees, scrabbling for the coins and, with a gesture for Blue to follow, left the museum.

“Can you Apparate, Mr Blue?”

“Yes.”

“The direction is Hogwarts gate. I’ll see you there momentarily.” With a loud crack, Snape Disapparated.

***

“Polyjuice, Mr Blue. My own experimental versions. I believe you have no need to worry, I’m extremely good at what I do.” Snape indicated the six cauldrons simmering on the right side of the lab table. “These are all slight variations on the same theme. There is little practical information on giving Polyjuice to animals, let alone animagi. I specifically requested a mammal from Kynx, thinking it might be problematic to change from for example, a reptile to a dog. I was quite pleased to find your animagus form was canine.”

Snape knew he had entered full lecture mode and he was quite enjoying himself. Blue looked reasonably interested - at least he wasn’t yawning.

“These six are for your animal form, enhanced for duration and stamina, also taking in account canine physiology. I have added some ingredients that should not affect the efficacy of the potion, and formulated the potions to be palatable to a canine.”

Snape pulled two tiny glass boxes, each containing a small number of hairs, out of a drawer. “As I indicated previously, research on the subject of animagi and Polyjuice is limited. It is my belief, however, that transitions will be easier for you if you change from canine to canine, rather than human to canine. It has already been established that Polyjuice isn’t suitable for normal, that is non-animagi, human to animal transformations, so we will stick to beast-to-beast and human-to-human.”

“Makes sense.”

“Thank you,” Snape drawled, “your opinion means so much to me.”

A wooden box was opened, revealing a pair of very fine gold tweezers nestled against black velvet. Snape raised the lid on one of the tiny glass boxes and used the tweezers to pick out a single hair. He held it up to Blue. “Canis familiaris - dog hair. Came from quite a large dog, much larger than your fox form. Human to human Polyjuice transformations often involve changing from one size to another, even adult to small child has been managed successfully. I see no reason why it would be different with animals.”

Snape ladled a quantity of the potion from the cauldron nearest him, into a shallow bowl and dropped a hair into it. It hissed and began to foam wildly before turning from a repellent mud colour to a virulent yellow. Snape nodded in satisfaction. “It seems apparent that the enhancements have not altered the basic properties. However, the proof, as they say, is in the pudding.”

“Looks a bit like pudding, that.”

“Quite. If you would transform into a fox, please.”

Snape watched fascinated, as Blue’s limbs began to shrink as he turned into a fox. “Well, let’s see if my guesses into palatability were correct.” Snape leant down and put the bowl on the floor in front of the fox. “At your earliest convenience, Mr Blue.”

The fox sniffed at the bowl and tentatively lapped at the thick yellow mess. Blue looked up at Snape and licked the roof of his mouth several times, as if trying to rid itself of a bad taste, which, Snape supposed, he might well be doing.

“My apologies, Mr Blue. I suspect there’s very little that can be done to mask the cabbage flavour. Perhaps I should have tried to put a piece of pork in with it.” Snape’s lips quirked. “Will you be able to ingest it, or do I need to try something else?”

The fox stuck his nose back into the bowl and, as nearly as possible, bolted the rest down. Snape watched with the same fascination as before, as Blue transformed from a fox into an enormous, bearlike black dog.

“Mr Blue, it would seem as if luck were with us. We’ll see how long this lasts, and its effects on your...stamina, and if it goes as I expect, you won’t have to sample any of the remaining six canine batches.”

The black dog pulled its lips back into something very like a grin.

“It’s a shame you can’t stay in this form. Well, we’ll get to that later.” Snape’s tongue poked nervously at the inside of his lip. “So...” It was unlike him to be tongue-tied and he twitched his shoulders irritably. “I have no experience in this. I’m afraid you’ll have to teach me... what it is that dog’s...like, ah sexually.”


~*~*~*~


With the boy repositioned where he wanted him, Snape sat back down and spread his legs again. Leaning forward slightly, he cupped his hand around Potter’s head and dragged it down to his lap, mashing the boy’s face against his painful erection. Without being told, Potter opened his mouth around the cloth covered bulge and began to lick and suck at it. Snape gasped in a breath between clenched teeth and then slowly exhaled. His right hand dropped over the arm of the chair and he began stroking the dog again.

His hand moved slowly from the huge animal’s broad chest, down it’s belly, and then slowly over the sheathed penis. Increasing the pressure of his stroke, Snape began to massage the dog’s prick, coaxing it out of the furry pocket. The dog whined and Potter jerked his head up. Snape had been careful not to let the boy see the dog before.

“Mmm. Yes. My present to you has made himself known sooner than I would wish.” Snape continued to stroke the dog’s prick - out of Potter’s view - and with his free hand he rubbed his own cock through his trousers.

“Well, it can’t be helped,” he continued, his voice tinged with regret. “Come see your present, Harry.”

The boy’s eyes widened in shock at the use of his first name.

“Come on. Come see.”

Face expressive with both confusion and curiosity, Potter awkwardly moved forward on his knees. Snape wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the green eyes got even wider.

The scarlet pointed-tip of the dog’s penis was just poking out of it’s sheath. Harry’s eyes locked on it. Nervously he licked his lips. Snape noted with satisfaction that the boy’s previously quiescent cock was already hardening.

“He’s magnificent, isn’t he, Harry. Look at the size of his cock. Look how red and wet it is. And he looks like your godfather’s animagus form, doesn’t he? Padfoot? Was that the name?”

Harry nodded and licked his lips again. Snape couldn’t resist leaning forward and softly nipping at the boy’s glistening lower lip. Harry gasped and delighted Snape by arching into the kiss, opening his mouth and inviting Snape in.

“You know what I saw in that long ago Occlumency lesson. Tell me, Harry. Did Sirius ever fuck you? Did he fuck you as Padfoot? Drive his slimy red cock into your tight little arse?”

Harry shook his head vehemently. “He never, I never. NO!”

“Then you wanted him to. Don’t lie to me, boy!” Snape said harshly. “Look at your cock, boy. Go ahead, look at it. You’re hard as a rock.”

Snape took a moment to appreciate Harry’s penis. It had lengthened and thickened quite nicely, although it was by no means huge. It stuck almost straight out from its nest of black hair, curving slightly to the right. Snape licked his lips.

“You wanted to fuck him, Harry, and evidently you never got to. Well, here’s your chance. It wasn’t just Sirius in his normal form that I caught a glimpse of during our lesson. It was Padfoot. You’re a depraved little slut, Potter.”

“NO!”

Snape took the boy’s head in both his hands. Slowly and methodically he explored the sweet mouth with his tongue. Harry moaned helplessly.

Wrenching himself away, Snape spoke again, his voice thick and hoarse. “Did you imagine him fucking you, Potter, or did you think about taking that big dog cock in your mouth?”

Harry’s cock jerked, almost bouncing against his belly.

“That’s it, isn’t it, boy?”

Snape waved his wand and muttered, “Finite Incantatum!” releasing the ropes that bound the boy. Harry promptly fell over. Snape laughed as he stood. “When you manage to regain your admittedly minimal co-ordination, you may join me in the bedroom.” He watched for a moment as Harry rubbed his wrists and ankles, trying to restore the blood flow. “You. Dog. Come with me.”

The enormous dog stood and padded quietly after Snape into the bedroom and then sat. Snape pulled back the covers on his bed, arranged the pillows against the headboard, and then looked down at the dog with a grimace. Striding over to a cupboard, he pulled out two towels and then returned to the foot of the bed, draping the towels across it. Looking down at the dog again, he snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed. The dog looked placidly back at him and didn’t move.

“Fine. Don’t let me upset your tender sensibilities.” Snape sneered. “Please, make yourself comfortable, on the towels, if you would. I don’t fancy dog hairs all over my duvet and sheets.”

The dog chuffed quietly and then jumped on the bed, curling up on the towels as if he slept there every night. Snape removed his boots and his robe, folding it carefully and draping it over the back of a chair, and then climbed into the bed himself, stretching his long legs out until his feet brushed against the dog’s black fur.

“Potter,” he called.

“I’m here.” Harry was standing in the doorway looking rather small and lost, his rampant erection belying his otherwise childish demeanor.

Snape patted his thighs and said, “Come here, boy.”

Suddenly eager, Harry almost scampered across the room and hurled himself onto the bed, sprawling gracelessly across Snape’s legs. Snape’s lips quirked in a not-quite smile and he stroked the boy’s luscious arse, dipping a finger between the pale cheeks just to hear the boy whimper.

“Get up here, Potter,” he growled. “That’s right, on your knees between my legs and lean back against me, hands behind your back.”

Harry wiggled into position, making sure to grind repeatedly against Snape’s erection. Snape hissed and reached for his wand. “Restrictus!” Thin rope shot out of the end of his wand and entwined around Harry, once again tying wrists to ankles.

Snape pulled the boy back against himself and smoothed his hands over Harry’s chest, lingering on the rubbery nipples, teasing them into hardness. The boy tilted his head back, offering his mouth. “I’ve already kissed you once tonight, Potter,” he said dismissively, but his head dropped forward and he pressed his lips against Harry’s.

At the foot of the bed the dog watched, one ear cocked up inquisitively. Snape made a gesture with his hand and the black beast began licking himself, tongue laving the bright red tip of the penis peeking out from its furry sheath.

Snape returned to kissing Harry, enjoying the boy’s watery mouth and soft lips, listening to the sound of the dog’s lapping tongue. His own cock, which had been quiescent during the transition from lounge to bedroom, made itself known again, pressing firmly against Harry’s bound hands. Harry moaned and tried to flex his wrists enough to grab it before moaning and giving up.

“Look up, Harry. Look at the dog.”

Harry languidly pulled himself away from Snape’s mouth and gasped softly at the sight of the dog licking its prick. It was already half hard and leaking copiously. Harry’s own cock sprang to attention immediately. Snape laughed softly. With strong hands he shifted the boy out of his lap, freeing his own cock. He eased the foreskin back from the head and stroked his thumb over the weeping slit.

“Tell me, Harry.”

Harry licked his lips, his eyes darting back and forth between Snape’s thick, uncut cock, and the dog’s more slender, but longer cock.

“Tell me about Padfoot, Harry. Occlumency only revealed so much.” Snape’s voice was a low, encouraging croon.

“Please, don’t,” Harry begged. “Don’t make me.”

Snape dropped a hand into Harry’s lap and squeezed the boy’s erection firmly. “Tell me, or leave, Potter.”

The boy knew what was required. His tongue darted over his lips again and he cleared his throat. “He, he used to lay on my bed, and sometimes he would...” the pink tongue darted out again, licking the corners of his mouth and stroking back and forth over his full lower lip. “He would lick himself. He licked himself and he watched me. Oh god!” Harry’s voice broke and he sobbed weakly. “Oh god, I wanted to. I wanted to touch him, to taste his cock, but I couldn’t!” Harry buried his head awkwardly against Snape’s chest.

“Keep watching him, Harry.” His own gaze had never left the black dog at the foot of the bed, the dog who was still licking himself thoroughly. Snape’s hand returned to his own lap and he began slowly fisting his cock.

Harry raised his head, his eyes moving rapidly back and forth between man and dog until Snape groaned. Harry’s eyes rivetted to the swollen flesh between his professor’s thighs as Snape started to stroke himself faster.

“Did you touch yourself in front of him?”

“Yesss! I couldn’t stop myself. Once...” Harry’s eyes closed. “Once he licked me after I came, licked all the come off my belly and my thighs. He licked between my arse cheeks, his tongue, oh god, his tongue was hot and rough and he kept licking and licking and licking.”

With his free hand, Snape snapped his fingers. The black dog belly-crawled up the bed, pushed his head between Harry’s legs, and began to enthusiastically lap at the boy’s cock and balls.

“And you wanted to lick him in return.” It wasn’t a question. Snape worked his hand under the dog’s belly and began to stroke the hot, red prick. His hand was quickly covered with the pre-come that was dripping in a watery stream from the pointed tip.

“His prick was so thick and long and red.” The boy was crying now. Snape moved his hand from the dog’s prick and touched Harry’s face, his other hand still working his own cock. His fingers traced the path of the tear down the soft cheek to where it trembled on Harry’s lip. Harry moaned as Snape pushed two fingers, slick from the dog’s cock, between his lips. Snape wondered briefly what it tasted like and then shuddered. The boy was a disgusting slut, wanting to suck a dog’s cock. Snape told himself he was not that depraved.

“Well, there it is, boy.” He gestured toward the red cock that had fully emerged from its hairy sheath. “Your heart’s desire. Suck that dog cock, boy.”

“No! Sirius wasn’t a dog. He was an animagus. It’s not the same! It isn’t! I loved him!” But in spite of his protests, Harry leant forward until he fell over with a thud, his head resting on the dog’s belly, mouth just inches away from the glistening cock.

***

Snape sat in a chair that had been angled toward the bed, only half his attention on the activities going on there. It amused him to think of awarding Harry and ‘O’ for his performance tonight, he had certainly proved to be even more perverse than Snape had hoped. I should thank the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, Snape thought. The death of the boy’s parents. The death of the bastard Black. Dumbledore’s constant scheming, misdirection, and lies of omission. The boy’s dreadful childhood with those loathsome Muggles. Between Voldemort’s murder of Potter’s family and Dumbledore’s misguided pattern of deprivation and excess, the boy had practically been handed to Snape on a silver platter.

A muffled scream broke the pattern of grunts and moans and whines that had been the background music to Snape’s musings and his eyes focussed on the bed again. Potter had allowed the beast to mount him. Harry’s face and shoulders were mashed into the bed. Blue’s front paws gripped the boy’s sides, claws digging into tender flesh. There were already several red scratch marks across the boy’s hips and back. The dog’s hindquarters were hunched around the boy’s arse and he was humping forward in rapid, ungainly jerks, desperately trying to embed his prick in the boy’s arse. Harry screamed again.

It was arousing to hear his agony and Snape was tempted to allow it to continue, but the dog’s os-penis could seriously damage the boy, and there was no way Snape was explaining that sort of injury to Madame Pomfrey. Snape leaned forward and grasped the dog’s prick, guiding it to Harry’s anus. Sensing victory, the dog lunged forward and Harry gasped as the entire length speared into him.

“Oh God. Padfoot!” Harry’s body was shiny with sweat. He had his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His screams of encouragement to the dog were almost as erotic as the sight of the massive beast frantically humping against him.

“Is this what you wanted, Harry?”

“Fuck, yesss! Ahhh. Fuck me, Padfoot! Fuck me!”

The large knot at the base of the dog’s cock was pounding against Harry’s stretched anus, demanding entrance. Snape almost regretfully moved forward again and wrapped his hand around the dog in front of the knot. It would be a pleasure to see the boy stretched beyond endurance, forced to take the grotesquely swollen lump, but there wasn’t sufficient time to allow boy and beast to remain locked together until it shrunk enough for them to disengage. Perhaps some other time. For now, Snape was only barely just in time.

The room reverberated with the combined noises of screaming boy and yipping dog. Finally, the dog pulled back, still spurting semen, and curled up on the floor licking himself. Harry collapsed onto his belly and immediately Snape hauled him back to all fours. Without waiting, or warning, Snape pushed himself into Harry’s loosened hole. What he could not equal in speed, he made up for in savagery. His fingers sunk deep into the flesh on Harry’s hips and he roughly yanked the boy back arse toward him at the same time as he thrust forward.

***

Snape told himself he wasn’t particularly enjoying this. Letting the dog fuck him was just a means to an end. His own cock was hard not because of the prick pistoning into him, but because of what he was going to do when the dog came. Snape’s breath was ragged, sweat matted his hair and trickled down his back and thighs as the dog fucked into him, as fast and as powerful as a jackhammer.

“Keep your hands there, slut. Don’t let his knot into me.” Snape knew Harry had to struggle to obey him, holding the dog’s cock while his hands were tied behind him would be nearly impossible, but if he fucked this up, Snape was determined he would take it out of the boy’s hide. “Oh fuck!” Snape bit down hard on his tongue to keep to himself his sounds of pleasure at the brutal fucking.

The dog’s front legs tightened around his waist and the long claws dug painfully into his side. Snape reached between his own legs and savagely squeezed his balls, fighting back his own orgasm as the dog pulsed deep in his arse. He clenched his arse muscles around the spasming prick, milking it, swearing he could feel the searing heat of the dog’s ejaculate deep in his bowels.

Slowly he pulled his hips forward and groaned in ecstasy as the hot penis slipped out. He clenched his muscles again, holding in the warm spunk. His cock was still painfully hard. He turned slowly to look at Harry, and in a voice thick with passion, said, “Clean him off, slut.”

He was amused to hear the boy gag, but there was no protest. Harry leaned forward and took the dog’s cock into his mouth for the second time. Snape whispered obscene words of encouragement as he watched the boy lick and suck the red prick. Again and again Harry swallowed, trying to choke down his own gag reflex.

Snape’s cock felt as if it might burst. He reminded himself that this was about control, not release. This had nothing to do with the way the torchlight caught the downy hairs on the brat’s ridiculously un-spotty cheeks. It had nothing to do with the wet red tongue moving against the wet red prick. This was about the control that Dumbledore had relinquished in frustration, the control Snape needed over the boy, the control the boy needed over himself.

“Control,” Snape whispered as he squeezed the base of his cock. Harry was fully engaged in his own activities and unaware of the struggle going on above him.

“Good boy, Harry. Now come here and lay down on your back.”

Harry shifted awkwardly and then fell heavily onto his side. Never taking his eyes off Snape, he rolled onto his back, his arms pinioned painfully under him. Panting heavily, Snape positioned his arse over the boy’s mouth. “Clean my arse, Harry.”

Snape could hear Harry gag again but almost instantaneously he felt the boy’s tongue lave his cleft and then push insistently against his hole. Relaxing his muscles he released the copious amounts of dog spunk. Harry choked and then screamed out in pleasure as Snape leaned forward and engulfed his swollen cock down to the root. Snape lapped and sucked, encouraging the boy’s orgasm and continuing until his balls were completely empty. Gasping for air, Snape finally collapsed beside him.

In two heartbeats Harry rolled awkwardly on top of him, pressed his lips against Snape’s mouth, and dribbled come over his tongue. Snape was undone. His cock pulsed several thick jets of milky fluid straight up in the air. A slow arc and the hot come splashed back down, spattering both their bellies and chests.

Snape’s breathing was still harsh, his heart pounding against his rib-cage when he heard the soft chime of the clock. Cursing, he pushed himself away from Harry and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. To his own ears his voice sounded like a crow’s. “I’ll be right back.”

He stood up and whistled once, softly. The big dog stood up and padded over to him, pushing his head under Snape’s long fingers and demanding he be petted. Snape had no interest in obliging.

“In the bathroom. Cupboard over the sink. Blue bottle. Drink it. Check yourself in the mirror and come back out. If you need to take some time to clean up,” Snape sneered down at the black dog, “please, feel free. You’ll be doing us all a favour.”

The dog pulled his lips up into something very like a grin, then padded off to the bathroom. Snape’s eyes followed him through the doorway before turning back to Harry. “You need to be cleaned up as well, Potter. I have another gift for you.”

“Oh noooo,” Harry groaned, “I can’t take any more, Snape. I’m fucked out.”

“You’re not fucked out until I say you are, you ungrateful little slut!” Snape said angrily. “You might as well get comfortable, Potter, it’s going to be a very long night.” Snape’s wand appeared seemingly out of nowhere and he pointed it at Harry and whispered a quiet spell. The ropes that had been binding the boy for three hours fell away. Snape was amused as Harry’s cramped and numb limbs failed him and he went sprawling in a heap on the bed. “Very graceful, Potter.”

Glancing first at the closed bathroom door, Snape turned and walked into the small kitchen. He returned to Harry with a damp, slightly steaming towel and sat on the bed next to him. With slow, gentle hands he rubbed the boy down, kissing or biting at each newly cleaned patch of skin. Harry groaned when Snape slid the damp towel between his cheeks and lightly wiped at his still open hole.

Through eyelids at half-mast, Harry looked up at Snape. “Thank you,” he said almost shyly. “Not just for the towel-down. This whole thing has been amazing. Every fantasy I’ve ever had come true.”

“Every fantasy, Harry?” Snape laughed. “I don’t think so. I think there’s at least one more to be fulfilled.”

Harry’s eyes widened, whether in apprehension, or shock, or lust, Snape couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. The wide eyes were going to get even wider when Sirius Black walked through the door.

Harry’s lips flapped open and closed several times. Snape thought he looked like nothing so much as a drowning fish. “Your present, Harry.”

“S-S-Sirius?”

“Oh, well done, Potter.” Snape’s voice was cruel and Harry flinched.

Blue opened his arms and just looked at the boy. With a deep sob, Harry staggered forward a single step. Snape grabbed his arm and just as quickly dropped it.

“You’re mine, Potter. You may go to him but first, you ask me.”

Harry turned and glared at Snape, utter hatred flashing in his eyes. Snape repeated, “You’re mine,” but this time he said, “Harry.”

Snape held out a hand and Harry stumbled forward to grab it. ‘Drowning fish’ had been appropriate, it was clear the boy was drowning and only Snape could save him.

Still across the room, Blue shivered at the look in the professor’s eye.

Snape enfolded Harry in his arms. “Such a good boy, and such a good little slut. Mine. My boy. My slut.”

Harry whimpered and huddled in closer. “Go ahead, Harry. Go to him. You’ve earned it, boy.”

Snape flinched slightly when Harry cried out before hurling himself into Blue’s arms. He looked like a small boy reaching for a beloved toy.

“Sirius. It’s you! It is you! You’ve come back! I knew you would. I knew. Nobody wanted to believe me. The kept saying you were dead, but I knew!”

In spite of Snape’s glare, Blue didn’t resist grinding his hips against Harry. Harry was clinging to the animagus, seemingly oblivious to the man’s hands stroking up and down his body, crying and whispering, “Sirius. Sirius.”

“Harry, come here.” Snape’s voice was low and even but no less commanding for that.

Harry pressed his head against Blue’s chest. After a moment he pushed himself away and walked back to Snape, his cock at half-mast. Evidently not so oblivious after all.

Snape kissed him. His hands slowly brushed across Harry’s shoulders, stroked his shoulder blades in passing on their way to the boy’s arse. Harry had tears in his eyes but his passion was clearly rising. Reaching down between them, Snape ghosted his fingers across the straining cock. Harry’s deep moan seemed to come all the way from his belly.

“Are you ready, Harry? I want to fuck you.” Harry trembled. “I want to fuck you and Black wants to fuck you. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t have to choose?” Harry worried his lower lip, reopening a tiny wound.

Snape licked away the blood. “No, Harry,” he whispered into the boy’s mouth, “you don’t have to choose. You can have us both.”

Harry’s eyes lit up like Christmas. “Fuck. Yes. Please.”

Snape smiled and reached around the boy for his wand. The camp-bed from his office levitated through the doorway and into his room. Harry looked at it in confusion. Snape smiled again. “Go to Black for a moment, Harry.”

He watched Harry practically throw himself at Blue, who for a moment seemed too stunned from the impact, to do anything at all.

“Go ahead, Black. This is what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?” Snape’s voice was icy, but inside he was laughing. Harry was ecstatic over Black’s supposed return, but Snape knew it was he himself who owned the boy. Harry moved back and forth at Snape’s bidding and when he was called, he would come.

With a lack of subtlety that Snape strongly associated with Black, Blue’s hands grabbed Harry’s arse before slowly sliding up the boy’s back. He lightly trailed back down again and then roughly insinuated his hand between Harry’s cheeks. “I’ve waited so long for this, Harry. I came back for this.” Blue kissed his way across Harry’s jaw. “You’re so fucking sweet. Azkaban, the Veil, everything was worth it with this at the end.”

Snape rolled his eyes but he was impressed. Blue was clearly deep into his role. As well he should have been. He was being paid enough, and half of it was payable on completion of service. There was, of course, the additional incentive of Harry’s arse. Snape watched with mounting excitement as Harry returned Blue’s kisses. The boy worked from the neck down and was much less gentle than Blue had been. Several bite marks were already visible along the animagus’ collarbone.

Somewhat surprisingly for a man his age, but not at all surprising when considered in light of what he was witnessing, Snape’s cock was surging back to life. He allowed himself the pleasure of stroking it several times and playing with the thick foreskin as he watched Potter clinging to the man he believed to be his godfather.

“How?” Harry murmured between kisses. “How did you come back?”

“Much as I hate to admit it,” Blue growled in Harry’s ear, loud enough for Snape to hear, “Snape did it. We’ll talk about it later, Harry. OK? I’ve got other things on my mind right now. God, it’s good to see you again.”
Snape wanted to applaud. Blue didn’t bother to look at Snape to see how he was doing, all his attention was on the boy in his arms.

“Harry, I’m sorry about what happened. Before, at the house. I never should have done that.”

Oh, nicely done, Snape thought. The animagus was improvising, using what he’d heard earlier to cement his performance. Bravo. A low groan from Harry, one that didn’t sound like passion, interrupted Snape’s musing, and he turned away from the camp-bed he was preparing to transfigure. Harry had his hands over his face, the bits of forehead and cheek that could be seen were flushing bright red.

“Oh God, Sirius. You must be disgusted with me. I didn’t even realize that was you before. I thought it was just a dog and I... Oh God.”

Snape watched as Blue pulled Harry’s hands down and lifted the boy’s chin. “No, Harry. I don’t think you’re disgusting at all. Either deep down you really knew it was me, or at the very least, you wanted it to be me. How can I think you’re disgusting when I can see how much you love me, how much you missed me.”

Snape thought he might be ill. It was disconcerting how much Blue looked and talked like Black, how much he was acting as Snape thought Black would act if he were really here. He reminded himself that this was what he had paid for. Snape turned back to the camp-bed and contemplated it for a moment before transfiguring it into a low backed, wide-seated, well-padded armchair. It didn’t suit the rest of his furnishings but it would serve admirably for his purposes.

“Harry, come here. You too, Black.”

“Can’t you call him Sirius?”

“No, I certainly cannot. Black was, is no friend of mine. We’re not, and never shall be on a first name basis. He’s here because you want him, not because of any hidden perversity of my own.” Snape couldn’t help smirking.

“Just for tonight?”

Snape merely rolled his eyes in response. “Lie down here, Harry.” Snape indicated the transfigured chair. “Black, you next to him.”

Blue turned to Harry and whispered loud enough for Snape to hear. “That’s our Snivellus, always the control freak.”

Snape winced at the name. He wished he hadn’t given Blue that particular piece of information - being called Snivellus was extremely off-putting - but he suspected Black himself would not have been able to resist using it, and it would help cement the impersonation.

Harry giggled and slapped Blue on the shoulder. “Stop it. You don’t want to make him angry.”

“Why not? Maybe if he gets angry enough, he’ll leave, and I can have you all to myself, the way it should be.”
“Don’t forget who made it possible for you to be here, Black. To paraphrase my mother, I brought you back into this world and I can send you back out of it.”

“Stop it! Both of you.” Harry looked up at Snape and smiled. “Didn’t you say something about fucking me?”

Blue seemed to take that as his cue. He laid down next to Harry and began running his hands slowly all over the boy’s slim body. Harry turned on his side, facing the animagus and pushed his leg between Blue’s thighs.

Snape lay on the other side of Harry and pulled on the boy’s shoulder, forcing him onto his back. He ran his hands slowly up and down Harry’s ribcage, plucking and pinching at bruises left earlier. He palmed the purpled nipples and then traced around them lightly with his fingers, feeling them stiffen once more under his touch. He had no idea what the animagus was doing and, at that moment, didn’t much care. Harry touched his face, silently begging. Snape pressed their lips together and gave himself up to the kiss.

They were interrupted by Blue, who pushed at Harry’s shoulder. “Budge up. I want to be part of this too.”

Snape was reaching for his wand to hex the man when Blue said his name and added, “We don’t have that much time.”

If Harry wondered what he meant, he gave no indication. He merely lay there, not uncooperative but not helpful. Snape sat up to watch as Blue pushed and pulled the boy’s body and wormed himself underneath, pressing his chest into Harry’s back, his cock nudging between the muscular arse cheeks.

“I could use a hand here, Snape.”

“Can’t manage to fuck the boy by yourself, Black?”

“I could and leave you totally out of the picture but somehow I didn’t think that’s what you’d want, Snivellus.”

“If you call me that again, Black, I will kill you.” Snape kept his tone mild. He shifted on the bed and lowered his hand to Blue’s cock. “Or, I could just pull this off.”

“Harry won’t be very happy with you.”

“No. I suppose he wouldn’t be.”

“I’m right here, gentlemen. You needn’t talk as if I were in another room.”

“Shut up, Potter,” Snape snapped. “You have no say in this.”

Harry wisely didn’t respond and Snape turned back to the task at hand. He didn’t think Harry needed additional preparation so he let the boy stew as he slowly applied lubrication to Blue’s cock.


***


“Too much. No, please. I can’t. It’s too much.” Harry’s eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was twisted in a grimace.

“Harry,” Snape snapped. “Open your eyes. Look at me. Look at me, Harry.” He stretched out a hand and stroked the boy’s head. “That’s right. Good boy. You can, Harry. You can do this, trust me. No, look at my eyes. Do you trust me?”

Harry pushed his teeth up over his top lip, pressing in hard enough to cause a spot of blood to well to the surface. He looked at Snape and nodded cautiously. Snape smiled. Blue continued to thrust into Harry’s arse, oblivious to the conversation going on above him.

“Such a good boy.” Snape’ hand stroked gently down Harry’s face. He cupped the boy’s chin and ran his thumb across Harry’s bleeding lip, smearing crimson drop. Snape leant forward and with the tip of his tongue licked at streak of blood. Harry whimpered and parted his lips, inviting Snape’s tongue inside. The coppery tang of blood and the hot, rich taste of Harry’s mouth made him groan. Snape pulled away from the seduction of that flavour and quickly pushed his cock into Harry’s mouth, stroking across the boy’s tongue.

Harry whimpered and closed his lips around Snape’s glans. He sucked voraciously.

“Use your tongue, boy. Get it nice and wet.”

Snape let Harry fellate him for a minute before putting a hand on Blue’s hip to still his short thrusts, then curled his fingers around the base of Blue’s cock, encouraging him to pull back so that only the head remained in Harry’s arse.

“Ready, Harry? Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Say it again.”

“Yes. I trust you. Yes. I’m ready. Please.”

Snape slid his cock along the base of Blue’s until the head pushed against Harry’s opening. Harry screamed and Snape enjoyed the sound for a few seconds before putting his hand over the boy’s mouth. Relentlessly he pushed his hips forward, driving his cock into Harry’s arse, stretching it obscenely.

Blue moaned loudly and Snape was sure it was from the sensation of another cock sliding along his. Harry tried to move but Blue’s arms were wrapped tightly around his chest from below and Snape was pushing firmly down on the boy’s hip, keeping him pinned as he finally slid all the way in. Blue moaned again and slowly pushed upward

***

“Ahhh. God! Fuck, Harry! So good. God! So close. I’m going t’come soon, Harry. I’m going to come so deep inside you...”

Somewhere in the room, a clock chimed.

“Pull out now, Black! Now! Come on his face!”

“Fuck that, Snape!” Blue growled and continued to pump violently against Harry’s arse.

“No, please,” Harry begged, “let him come inside me.”

“I brought him back from beyond the veil and I can fucking well send him back! He’s hear on my sufferance, Potter. Do as I say, Black! Before I hex you into oblivion! Potter, pull away from him. NOW!”

“Sirius, please, do what he says!” Harry was pushing at Blue’s hips, trying to force him out.

Snape threateningly pressed his wand against Blue’s temple. “Now, you bastard. I won’t say it again.”

Blue wrenched himself out of Harry’s arse and knelt up, breathing heavily and scowling. The abrupt movement had clearly sent him over the edge and his seed pulsed out, splattering Harry’s face.

A slow look of shock came over Harry’s face and Snape looked at Blue in triumph. The transformation was fascinating to watch. Blue’s skin seemed to stretch tightly over his frame as he grew. Snape could actually see his nose lengthening, colour seemed to slip across his eyes as they turned from blue to brown. Harry was staring in horror, eyes wide, mouth open, semen dripping from his chin. He screamed, “SIRIUS!” Snape laughed.

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought, Potter.” Snape walked to the bedside table and opened a drawer, pulling out a money bag. He threw it at Blue and the animagus grunted as it hit him forcefully in the belly. “Get dressed and get out. Your services are no longer needed.”

Blue looked at Harry and grinned. “Sorry about that, boy. You’re an amazing fuck, though. I’m sure your godfather would have been delighted.”

“That’s enough out of you,” Snape snarled. “You’ve been paid. You may wash up if you like, but I want you out of my rooms in five minutes or less. Take your clothes into the bathroom. I want to talk to the boy alone.”

Blue grinned again. He took his time picking his clothes up off the floor, and sauntered slowly into the bathroom. When the door snicked shut, Snape turned to Harry, who was still standing there with his mouth open, clearly unable to say a word.

Harry was a mess. His whole body, including his hair, was streaked with sweat and come, welted by claw, fingernails, and teeth. His lips were swollen and slightly bloody, his nipples almost purple. He was also, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing Snape had ever seen in his life.

“Did you enjoy yourself, Harry? No, you don’t need to answer. It’s obvious that you did. I knew you were depraved, Potter, but I really had no idea you were as much a whore as you proved tonight.”

The bathroom door opened again and Blue walked out. Snape glared at him. The animagus just smiled, unafraid, and walked over to Harry. He raised the boy’s head and ran his tongue over the swollen lips. “That was fun, love. We’ll have to do it again some time.” He looked over at Snape, still smiling.

“Get out.”

“I’m going.”

Snape grabbed for his wand and Blue held up a hand. “You paid for my silence. You’ve got it. There’s no need to Obliviate me. You might want my services again, sometime. The boy’s got a taste for dog now, and so do you. You might want me again, someone who knows what he’s doing.”

Snape considered briefly and lowered his wand. “If a single word of this leaks out, I won’t hesitate to track you down and kill you.”

“I hope you’ll track me down to fuck me. That’s a nice piece you’ve got on you. I’d like to try it again sometime. And your boy is simply yummy.”

“Get out before I change my mind.”

Blue laughed again. “You’re a sick man, Snape, and he’s a very sick boy. I guess I am too. No, don’t say it. I’m leaving. If you want me again, Kynx will know where to find me. Goodnight, Snape, Harry. It was a pleasure.”

Snape glared as the animagus strolled out of the room. Harry never looked up.

“He’s gone, Harry. I presume there’s an abundance of things you wish to say to me right now.”

Finally, Harry looked up, his eyes were red and still streaming tears. “You, you, what... You bastard!”

“Eloquent as usual.”

“Sirius.” Harry’s shoulders shook as he covered his face with his hands, sobbing helplessly.

Snape let out an exaggerated sigh. “Do get over it, Potter. That wasn’t your godfather. The dog wasn’t Padfoot, although you knew that at the time. The dog wasn’t Padfoot and the man wasn’t Sirius. Sirius is dead. Dead, Potter. He’s not coming back.”

“You bastard!”

“Yes.” Snape was smiling broadly.

“You fucking bastard! How could you? How could you do this to me?”

“Do what, Potter?” Snape purred. “Give you what you wanted? What you dreamed of? What nobody else knew you wanted or needed? Your very own big black dog to fuck. Your godfather to screw you into the mattress.”

“I hate you!”

“No you don’t.”

“He’s dead! Sirius is dead. He’s dead. I thought he came back for me but he didn’t. He’s dead. He’s dead.” Harry sank to his knees and then curled up on the floor, wrapping his arms tightly around himself and rocking back and forth slowly, tears streaming down his face. “He’s dead and I’m all alone.”

Snape’s cock was rock hard again as he watched the boy trying to rock his grief away. He knelt down next to him and lightly touched his shoulder. Harry rolled over and looked up at him, grief stricken, open and submissive at last.

“No, Harry. You’re not alone.” Snape picked the boy up off the ground and carried him to the bed, heedless of blood and come and tears and snot. “You’re not alone. You’re mine.”

He placed Harry face down and then pulled him to his knees. Once again, Harry’s face and shoulders were mashed into the hard mattress. Snape pushed a pillow at him, and Harry grabbed it, curling his arms around it, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline, the soft cotton pillowcase absorbing his tears.

Snape climbed on the bed behind him, gently spreading his knees further apart, even more gently spreading his arse cheeks. He looked down at his prize. Harry’s anus was gaping, dripping with Blue’s come and Snape’s own. There was no need for further lubrication and he was stretched as wide as he could ever be. Slowly, Snape slid his cock home.

He rocked slowly back and forth, fucking languidly into his boy, no urgency now, no desperate need. He bit Harry lightly on the back of the neck before whispering against the sweaty skin. “Your parents are dead, Harry. Sirius is dead. You’re friends don’t understand you. Dumbledore will manipulate you until he has no more use for you. Sirius Black is dead and you’re alive. There are things you wanted while he was alive and they didn’t go away because he died. You can have them. You can have what you want.” He wrapped a hand around Harry’s cock and squeezed the boy’s balls lightly with his other hand. “You and I are more alike than you’ve wanted to believe and you’re mine now, Harry.” Snape’s began thrusting harder and stroking Harry’s cock faster. “You are mine, Harry. You are mine and I am yours and we need no one else.”

Harry wept as he came.

~fin~



I had a dog and his name was Blue/Betcha five dollars he’s a good-un too/Here, Blue. You good dog, you/ Blew my whistle and I tooted my horn/Gonna find a possum in the new grown corn/Old Blue barked and I went to see/ cornered a possum right up a tree/Come on, Blue. You good dog you/Old Blue died and he died so hard/Shook the ground in my backyard/Dug his grave with a silver spade/Lowered him down with links of chain/Every link I did call his name/Here Blue, you good dog you/Here Blue, I\'m a-coming there too