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folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
9,327
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
9,327
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Attention Seeker
EDIT 1/10/05 Disclaimer - *walks around doing impression of tight arsed mod\'s.* You\'ve heard it all before so here it goes again, I don\'t profess to own any of the characters or plot coincidents with the Harry Potter series written by JK Rowling, contained within this story. All dirt, sex and other profanity is made from the sick genius of my own and while I use for my own and others amusements the character of JKR\'s stories, I do neither profit monetarily or legally from anything contained within these pages. All relative warnings related to this story are clearly indicated and should you be reading this story and take offence I accept no responsibilty having warned you thorughly before undertaking the project. If you sue, you won\'t make a dime so don\'t bother. RIFFRAFF.
Attention Seeker
The hallway was forebodingly quiet. He sat stiffly on the stone floor, listening to the drone of his elders behind the closed door. He’d been here almost two hours already, since they’d hauled him up here by his bloodied collar. It was inevitable what the outcome would be. The part of Harry that would, two years ago, have felt some regret, was now firmly squashed beneath a euphoric sense of satisfaction having achieved his goal at last.
The world Harry now lived in was a dark place. Life for a wizard in England had changed, but so to had Harry. Safety was a thing of the past, entire generations of muggle borns lost as Voldemort’s hold constricted.
Harry’s 17th birthday had come and gone with as little fuss as he was used to. He was now in his final year at Hogwart’s and was just managing to keep his head above the chaos. There was the usual traditions of the school he’d once referred to as home, but the differences between the past and now were extremely visible. Gone were the muggle born, the squibs and the incompetent so now only pureblood family names were read out from the rolls. Harry was among the minority holding on to his education simple because of his name.
Harry had traveled to school at the end of summer alone. The ghosts of his friend’s mere memories on the carriage benches beside him. It had always been a thin line they’d walked upon in the war against Voldemort and it had only been a matter of time till the turning point had been reached. That turning point had been and unassuming and unpredictable event. Harry had watched Ronald Weasley die a most painful death in his mother’s arms after having made a simple mistake in the field of battle. Ron’s screams of agony haunted Harry’s every step and it was only when those he’d once considered friends turned on him that he’d realized that perhaps he was fighting for the wrong side. The people he was trying to save didn’t want to be. Sirus, his parents, Cedric, Cho, Bill, Dean, Hermione, Ron, the list of people he’d loved as family who were now dead was growing to the point at which there was no one left to fight for and those that were left hated him now as much as the enemy. This was a war he couldn’t win so at the start of his sixth year he’d simply given up.
It was a simple solution, involving very little effort but dedication to the cause and it seemed to be working. Chaos ruled in a dying culture and Voldemort was the scavenger picking up the pieces to mould into his own. Death was a constant and Harry had learnt how to block it out with a simple combination of silence and his newfound hobby project. A project, which had gotten him into his present state of trouble.
The scrape of chairs on the stone floor was a sure sign the meeting had adjourned. Harry didn’t even bother looking up as the door opened and several wizards and witches exited the room. Harry knew they were staring at him as they passed but he’d grown accustomed to the disappointed stares and merely ignored them. The war would go on with or without him, who were they to judge his decisions when they knew nothing of his pain.
When at last the wizards had disappeared down the stone gargoyle steps Harry became aware of two potion stained, dragon hide boots standing to his left. An immaculate, pitch-black robe hung perfectly to the ankle of the boots and had the figure not spoken Harry knew their identity regardless.
“Potter,” The word was spat with its usual venom. “follow me.” With as much dignity as he could manage Harry rose and followed the striding figure ahead of him. Harry had done this walk a thousand times before and knew it’s every turn. While once he may have shuddered in fear of what was to come of late his shoulders had turned into those of anticipation.
The door to the potions classroom slammed open, the sound echoing in the deserted hallways of the dungeons. Knowing what was expected of him Harry closed the door behind him before standing quietly in front of the potion master’s large oak desk. With his eyes to the floor Harry listened to the flurry of material as the elder wizard shed his outer cloak. The high-pitched ‘cling’ of a crystal decanter being emptied into it’s matching glass melted into silence. Finally Severus Snape sat down in the worn leather chair behind his desk and looked over Harry with an undisguised disgusted glance.
Harry knew the routine by heart, had studied it even in the hopes of bettering his project. The intimidating stares, the calm collected threats, the cutting sarcasm, all of it seemed to add to Harry’s knew found enthusiasm for his extra curricular hobby and perhaps today was the day his dedication to the project paid off.
“Here again Potter, aren’t we the prodigal son?” Sarcasm like that would have once made him rise to the bait but he’d learnt to ignore it. It was as if during his project he’d become immune to the wizards words. There was silence as Snape sipped his brandy, the professor’s attention briefly lingering on the ‘item’ of the evening resting on the edge of his desk. “A blood hornet. I’m mildly impressed by your creative ingenuity.” Snape put down his brandy glass and Harry watched from beneath his eyelashes as the wizard picked up the orb. The small flying insect inside hummed angrily as Snape tapped the glass in an annoying fashion. Immediately the insect spat out a toxic spray at where Snape’s fingers held the glass ball. The liquid sizzled and crackled on the glass. Had the protective orb not been charmed the damage to the potion masters fingers would have been severe and irreversible, just as the damage to Justin Thistle’s face had been this evening. “I’d ask you where you got it but I’d be obliged to pass on the information to the headmaster and I know such sources of quality merchandise are hard to come by.” Putting the orb back on its stand, Snape rose from his chair and walked calmly over to the shelves of potion bottles on the far wall. Harry took the opportunity to glance up at the slender frame of the professor, admiring the curve of the spine and the sensuous hips and the taunt backside hidden beneath the tailored clothes. Harry’s mouth was dry and he licked his lips, silently rejoicing in his choice of project. “I enjoyed out little sessions so much more when you chose to challenge me Potter.” Snape glanced over his shoulder at Harry but he remained silent just as he always was now days. Irritated but resigned to the fact the boy had no intention of replying Snape walked back to his desk and leant against it to survey the splatters of Justin Thistle’s blood all over Harry’s school robes.
“The headmaster wishes me to inform you that your position as student here at Hogwarts has been terminated,” Inwardly Harry whooped in exultation, yet outwardly he remained silent his expression betraying nothing. “further more it is my duty to tell you, Albus Dumbledore washes his hands of you entirely and despite your 17 years are now free to make your own way in wizarding society.” Again another swell of excitement settled in Harry’s chest. Two years it had taken for them to finally let him go as a lost cause. The pressure of being ‘the boy who lived’ seemed to finally be dissolved. Still he kept his mask in place as he had done since Ron’s death two years before. It was almost vital to keep his self in check for while he’d won one battle his little project still remained unfinished. Snape studied him closely for a moment before continuing. “Being now no longer my student I feel I can speak my mind without reproach,” Harry couldn’t help the amused twitch of his upper lip at the comment. To him Snape had always spoken his mind no matter what the consequences, yet Harry was perplexed by what Snape had withheld from saying previously due to his position. “You have, without competition been my singular worst student ever and in my opinion this expulsion of you from Hogwarts has not come soon enough.” Again Harry’s upper lip twitched in undetected amusement, the comment from Snape not entire unexpected as Harry had thought. When it seemed Snape would say no more he stood up from the edge of the desk and circled Harry’s person slowly, his eyes lingering on the blood caked on Harry’s hands.
“Yet my celebration of this monumental occasion is dampened by the fact you’re indifferent to this ultimate punishment.” Harry didn’t manage to stop his nervous swallow as Snape drew his face level with Harry’s. Harry resisted the temptation to look up but his nerve faltered. “It was almost as if you wanted it.” Harry couldn’t hold his mask any longer and instantly looked up, his gaze meeting the obsidian eyes he’d become addicted to this last two years. “I’m intrigued by the notion that over the past few years you’ve almost ‘worked’ to achieve this goal, striving to create a new mould for yourself and push aside the famous Potter image.” Harry couldn’t breath as Snape smiled smugly as if the man had been told the secrets to the world. Snape was on to him and Harry wondered how this unexpected turn in the situation would affect his project. “Were you trying to deflect the scrutiny of your peers Potter?” Snape pushed his face closer to Harry’s, the man’s musky breath washed over Harry’s own lips. Harry was caught in the wizards dark gaze as the man continued. “Or perhaps you were trying to get my attention Potter with your creative displays of rebellion?” Harry saw the sparkle of knowledge flicker in Snape’s eyes, the elder wizard now so close his lips threatened to brush Harry’s.
Harry was entranced by the power practically radiating from the impressive figure before him. Seven years he’d craved just a taste of that power, drawn to it like the nectar of life. Even if no one else had seen the power in Severus Snape Harry had, and was now so close to having it for himself. Snape reached forward, his fingertips grazing Harry’s neck where the boy’s school tie had slid undone. Instinctively Harry tilted his head back in invitation. Two years of dedicative study to his project had not gone to waste. The imposing figure of the potion master grew intimately closer, and Harry was sure he heard a rumble of a growl in the back of the elder wizards throat as his crooked nose brushed the exposed skin of the boy’s neck. “Congratulations Mr. Potter,” Snape paused and Harry felt the two sharp points of a pair of incisors graze his skin. “ you have my attention.” The wizard’s deep silk voice rumbled in Harry’s chest. The close smell of brandy and the unique aroma of wet forest growth ensnared what was left of Harry’s iron control. Harry’s eyes slid closed automatically the eye contact with his elder broken.
In an instant Snape’s presence was gone and Harry’s eyes sprung open in fear that he’d messed up. Snape was over at the far wall of the room his wand in hand. Harry forcefully stopped himself from walking over to the other wizard. Snape had to come to Harry not the other way around, or all his work would be ruined. In silence Harry watched as Snape flicked his wand at the wall and was surprised to watch a wooden door appeared in the stone. Snape opened the door in the stone and pulled out from within a familiar white mask and cloak. Harry held his breath as Snape turned around and smiled darkly at the boy.
“I believe I have a proposition for you Potter.” Despite the vagueness of the comment the unspoken message was clear to Harry. Harry watched keenly as Snape drew on the pitch back robe, enveloping his slim frame with a fluid grace Harry envied. Snape’s eyes twinkled dangerously as he tucked his 13 ½ inches of willow into the sleeve of his cloak. Harry’s heartbeat raced as he watched the wizard slide the expressionless white mask into place under the hood. The picture of power Snape made was absolute and Harry was helpless to resist when Snape offered out his gloved hand to the boy in silent invitation.
“I accept.” Harry whispered.
They were the only two words Harry had spoken in two years and his voice sounded foreign to his ears. Yet they were important words and the only words that mattered in the acceptance of an offer Harry had waited a lifetime to be given. Despite the mask Harry knew that behind it Snape was smirking in the cruel lopsided way he favored when he’d succeeded at something. Snape didn’t speak again and merely nodded in acceptance. Harry was by now quite capable of apperating on his own but instinctively he knew his life was now in the hands of Severus Snape and there would be no room for defiance. Abandoning his school bag on the floor Harry stepped up to Snape’s side and slipped his arm through Snape’s elbow. Instantly Snape’s gloved hand latched tightly around Harry’s wrist, the small show of dominance not lost on the boy. Within seconds Harry felt himself being sucked into the familiar vortex of apparition and into a path no one could have predicted.
*********************************************************************
TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Attention Seeker
The hallway was forebodingly quiet. He sat stiffly on the stone floor, listening to the drone of his elders behind the closed door. He’d been here almost two hours already, since they’d hauled him up here by his bloodied collar. It was inevitable what the outcome would be. The part of Harry that would, two years ago, have felt some regret, was now firmly squashed beneath a euphoric sense of satisfaction having achieved his goal at last.
The world Harry now lived in was a dark place. Life for a wizard in England had changed, but so to had Harry. Safety was a thing of the past, entire generations of muggle borns lost as Voldemort’s hold constricted.
Harry’s 17th birthday had come and gone with as little fuss as he was used to. He was now in his final year at Hogwart’s and was just managing to keep his head above the chaos. There was the usual traditions of the school he’d once referred to as home, but the differences between the past and now were extremely visible. Gone were the muggle born, the squibs and the incompetent so now only pureblood family names were read out from the rolls. Harry was among the minority holding on to his education simple because of his name.
Harry had traveled to school at the end of summer alone. The ghosts of his friend’s mere memories on the carriage benches beside him. It had always been a thin line they’d walked upon in the war against Voldemort and it had only been a matter of time till the turning point had been reached. That turning point had been and unassuming and unpredictable event. Harry had watched Ronald Weasley die a most painful death in his mother’s arms after having made a simple mistake in the field of battle. Ron’s screams of agony haunted Harry’s every step and it was only when those he’d once considered friends turned on him that he’d realized that perhaps he was fighting for the wrong side. The people he was trying to save didn’t want to be. Sirus, his parents, Cedric, Cho, Bill, Dean, Hermione, Ron, the list of people he’d loved as family who were now dead was growing to the point at which there was no one left to fight for and those that were left hated him now as much as the enemy. This was a war he couldn’t win so at the start of his sixth year he’d simply given up.
It was a simple solution, involving very little effort but dedication to the cause and it seemed to be working. Chaos ruled in a dying culture and Voldemort was the scavenger picking up the pieces to mould into his own. Death was a constant and Harry had learnt how to block it out with a simple combination of silence and his newfound hobby project. A project, which had gotten him into his present state of trouble.
The scrape of chairs on the stone floor was a sure sign the meeting had adjourned. Harry didn’t even bother looking up as the door opened and several wizards and witches exited the room. Harry knew they were staring at him as they passed but he’d grown accustomed to the disappointed stares and merely ignored them. The war would go on with or without him, who were they to judge his decisions when they knew nothing of his pain.
When at last the wizards had disappeared down the stone gargoyle steps Harry became aware of two potion stained, dragon hide boots standing to his left. An immaculate, pitch-black robe hung perfectly to the ankle of the boots and had the figure not spoken Harry knew their identity regardless.
“Potter,” The word was spat with its usual venom. “follow me.” With as much dignity as he could manage Harry rose and followed the striding figure ahead of him. Harry had done this walk a thousand times before and knew it’s every turn. While once he may have shuddered in fear of what was to come of late his shoulders had turned into those of anticipation.
The door to the potions classroom slammed open, the sound echoing in the deserted hallways of the dungeons. Knowing what was expected of him Harry closed the door behind him before standing quietly in front of the potion master’s large oak desk. With his eyes to the floor Harry listened to the flurry of material as the elder wizard shed his outer cloak. The high-pitched ‘cling’ of a crystal decanter being emptied into it’s matching glass melted into silence. Finally Severus Snape sat down in the worn leather chair behind his desk and looked over Harry with an undisguised disgusted glance.
Harry knew the routine by heart, had studied it even in the hopes of bettering his project. The intimidating stares, the calm collected threats, the cutting sarcasm, all of it seemed to add to Harry’s knew found enthusiasm for his extra curricular hobby and perhaps today was the day his dedication to the project paid off.
“Here again Potter, aren’t we the prodigal son?” Sarcasm like that would have once made him rise to the bait but he’d learnt to ignore it. It was as if during his project he’d become immune to the wizards words. There was silence as Snape sipped his brandy, the professor’s attention briefly lingering on the ‘item’ of the evening resting on the edge of his desk. “A blood hornet. I’m mildly impressed by your creative ingenuity.” Snape put down his brandy glass and Harry watched from beneath his eyelashes as the wizard picked up the orb. The small flying insect inside hummed angrily as Snape tapped the glass in an annoying fashion. Immediately the insect spat out a toxic spray at where Snape’s fingers held the glass ball. The liquid sizzled and crackled on the glass. Had the protective orb not been charmed the damage to the potion masters fingers would have been severe and irreversible, just as the damage to Justin Thistle’s face had been this evening. “I’d ask you where you got it but I’d be obliged to pass on the information to the headmaster and I know such sources of quality merchandise are hard to come by.” Putting the orb back on its stand, Snape rose from his chair and walked calmly over to the shelves of potion bottles on the far wall. Harry took the opportunity to glance up at the slender frame of the professor, admiring the curve of the spine and the sensuous hips and the taunt backside hidden beneath the tailored clothes. Harry’s mouth was dry and he licked his lips, silently rejoicing in his choice of project. “I enjoyed out little sessions so much more when you chose to challenge me Potter.” Snape glanced over his shoulder at Harry but he remained silent just as he always was now days. Irritated but resigned to the fact the boy had no intention of replying Snape walked back to his desk and leant against it to survey the splatters of Justin Thistle’s blood all over Harry’s school robes.
“The headmaster wishes me to inform you that your position as student here at Hogwarts has been terminated,” Inwardly Harry whooped in exultation, yet outwardly he remained silent his expression betraying nothing. “further more it is my duty to tell you, Albus Dumbledore washes his hands of you entirely and despite your 17 years are now free to make your own way in wizarding society.” Again another swell of excitement settled in Harry’s chest. Two years it had taken for them to finally let him go as a lost cause. The pressure of being ‘the boy who lived’ seemed to finally be dissolved. Still he kept his mask in place as he had done since Ron’s death two years before. It was almost vital to keep his self in check for while he’d won one battle his little project still remained unfinished. Snape studied him closely for a moment before continuing. “Being now no longer my student I feel I can speak my mind without reproach,” Harry couldn’t help the amused twitch of his upper lip at the comment. To him Snape had always spoken his mind no matter what the consequences, yet Harry was perplexed by what Snape had withheld from saying previously due to his position. “You have, without competition been my singular worst student ever and in my opinion this expulsion of you from Hogwarts has not come soon enough.” Again Harry’s upper lip twitched in undetected amusement, the comment from Snape not entire unexpected as Harry had thought. When it seemed Snape would say no more he stood up from the edge of the desk and circled Harry’s person slowly, his eyes lingering on the blood caked on Harry’s hands.
“Yet my celebration of this monumental occasion is dampened by the fact you’re indifferent to this ultimate punishment.” Harry didn’t manage to stop his nervous swallow as Snape drew his face level with Harry’s. Harry resisted the temptation to look up but his nerve faltered. “It was almost as if you wanted it.” Harry couldn’t hold his mask any longer and instantly looked up, his gaze meeting the obsidian eyes he’d become addicted to this last two years. “I’m intrigued by the notion that over the past few years you’ve almost ‘worked’ to achieve this goal, striving to create a new mould for yourself and push aside the famous Potter image.” Harry couldn’t breath as Snape smiled smugly as if the man had been told the secrets to the world. Snape was on to him and Harry wondered how this unexpected turn in the situation would affect his project. “Were you trying to deflect the scrutiny of your peers Potter?” Snape pushed his face closer to Harry’s, the man’s musky breath washed over Harry’s own lips. Harry was caught in the wizards dark gaze as the man continued. “Or perhaps you were trying to get my attention Potter with your creative displays of rebellion?” Harry saw the sparkle of knowledge flicker in Snape’s eyes, the elder wizard now so close his lips threatened to brush Harry’s.
Harry was entranced by the power practically radiating from the impressive figure before him. Seven years he’d craved just a taste of that power, drawn to it like the nectar of life. Even if no one else had seen the power in Severus Snape Harry had, and was now so close to having it for himself. Snape reached forward, his fingertips grazing Harry’s neck where the boy’s school tie had slid undone. Instinctively Harry tilted his head back in invitation. Two years of dedicative study to his project had not gone to waste. The imposing figure of the potion master grew intimately closer, and Harry was sure he heard a rumble of a growl in the back of the elder wizards throat as his crooked nose brushed the exposed skin of the boy’s neck. “Congratulations Mr. Potter,” Snape paused and Harry felt the two sharp points of a pair of incisors graze his skin. “ you have my attention.” The wizard’s deep silk voice rumbled in Harry’s chest. The close smell of brandy and the unique aroma of wet forest growth ensnared what was left of Harry’s iron control. Harry’s eyes slid closed automatically the eye contact with his elder broken.
In an instant Snape’s presence was gone and Harry’s eyes sprung open in fear that he’d messed up. Snape was over at the far wall of the room his wand in hand. Harry forcefully stopped himself from walking over to the other wizard. Snape had to come to Harry not the other way around, or all his work would be ruined. In silence Harry watched as Snape flicked his wand at the wall and was surprised to watch a wooden door appeared in the stone. Snape opened the door in the stone and pulled out from within a familiar white mask and cloak. Harry held his breath as Snape turned around and smiled darkly at the boy.
“I believe I have a proposition for you Potter.” Despite the vagueness of the comment the unspoken message was clear to Harry. Harry watched keenly as Snape drew on the pitch back robe, enveloping his slim frame with a fluid grace Harry envied. Snape’s eyes twinkled dangerously as he tucked his 13 ½ inches of willow into the sleeve of his cloak. Harry’s heartbeat raced as he watched the wizard slide the expressionless white mask into place under the hood. The picture of power Snape made was absolute and Harry was helpless to resist when Snape offered out his gloved hand to the boy in silent invitation.
“I accept.” Harry whispered.
They were the only two words Harry had spoken in two years and his voice sounded foreign to his ears. Yet they were important words and the only words that mattered in the acceptance of an offer Harry had waited a lifetime to be given. Despite the mask Harry knew that behind it Snape was smirking in the cruel lopsided way he favored when he’d succeeded at something. Snape didn’t speak again and merely nodded in acceptance. Harry was by now quite capable of apperating on his own but instinctively he knew his life was now in the hands of Severus Snape and there would be no room for defiance. Abandoning his school bag on the floor Harry stepped up to Snape’s side and slipped his arm through Snape’s elbow. Instantly Snape’s gloved hand latched tightly around Harry’s wrist, the small show of dominance not lost on the boy. Within seconds Harry felt himself being sucked into the familiar vortex of apparition and into a path no one could have predicted.
*********************************************************************
TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>