Brief Encounter

Disclaimer The characters and the sheer genius belong to J K Rowling.

Any smut is mine, but I don't make a penny/eurocent/cent from my warped imagination.


Brief Encounter

( Half Blood Prince Chapter Fifteen and Three Quarters. )

The Hogwarts Express gave a loud whistle; and began to pull slowly away from Hogsmeade Station. Harry and Ron leaned out of the window and waved energetically to Hagrid. "Goodbye, have a good Christmas!" Harry shouted.

The snowy platform slowly disappeared into the distance, Harry and Ron collapsed onto the seat. Not very many people were taking the train, and they had a compartment to themselves. Harry turned excitedly to Ron. "I've been wanting to tell you about this ever since last night. You know I went to Professor Slughorn's party - "

"Yes, and Hermione went with that pillock McLaggan" interrupted Ron, glaring at him morosely. "Hang on Harry, you can tell me in a minute, I just need to go to the loo," and he got up and headed off down the corridor.

Harry was fuming with suppressed impatience by the time Ron got back. "Listen," he said. "You'll never guess what I heard Snape and Malfoy saying."

"Snape and Malfoy?" asked Ron, slouching onto the seat opposite Harry. "That's funny."

"Funny?" said Harry. "Oh yeah, the famous comedy duo of Severus and Draco - I don't think."

"Arse," said Ron affectionately. "No, I mean it's funny because I saw them both just now."

"Saw them? Here? On the train?" Harry asked incredulously. "But Snape never takes the Hogwarts Express."

"Yeah, on the train," Ron confirmed. "Saw them both going into a compartment in the next coach when I was coming back from the loo. Hey - what're you doing?"

Harry was reaching up to the luggage rack above his seat and rooting around in his bag. "I must go and listen to what they're scheming," he told Ron, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag and heading for the door.

Ron gaped at him. "But Harry - "

Harry tugged open the door to their compartment. "I'll tell you all about it when I get back," he said and, slamming the door shut he pulled on the Invisibility Cloak and headed off down the corridor.

As he walked slowly along, balancing himself against the movement of the train, pictures from the previous night came into his head. Slughorn, his arm round Snape's shoulders at his Christmas party. Snape, sneering at Harry's ambition to be an Auror. Malfoy, escorted by Filch, caught apparently gatecrashing the party. Snape insisting Malfoy follow him to a deserted classroom. He, Harry, listening at the classroom keyhole, overhearing their conversation ... a conversation which confirmed his darkest suspicions, that Malfoy was indeed trying to carry out some task at Hogwarts for Voldemort, and that Snape wanted to help him do it ... whatever it was.

Harry had reached this point in his ruminations when he saw the hated pair themselves through the window of a first class compartment. First class? huh! Harry thought, taking hold of the handle and carefully easing the door open a little at a time, praying they wouldn't notice.

Snape was sitting leafing through a book, Malfoy was pacing up and down the compartment, occasionally grabbing hold of a seat back as the train swayed.

"I'm not a child," Malfoy said crossly. "I don't need escorting."

"I promised your mother I'd see you safely home," replied Snape in a bored tone, turning a page. "Please don't imagine that I particularly relish the task."

Malfoy snorted, and halted by the window, staring blindly out at the snowy landscape. "There's no need; I can look after myself," he muttered. "Merlin, it's hot in here," reaching up and tugging petulantly at the two handles on the sliding windows. With a grunt he finally managed to slide the halves of the window apart as far as possible, totally ignoring the warning not to open it beyond fixed marks.

Harry, thinking himself unobserved, crouched down in a corner completely covered by his Invisibility Cloak. Would his two enemies continue their enlightening conversation of the previous evening? Snape suddenly looked up from the book on his lap with a scowl. "Draco," he said coldly, "stop fidgeting about and do something useful. You can go to the buffet car for some Butterbeers and a copy of the Prophet. This looks like being a long and tedious journey."

Malfoy scowled. "What buffet car? Anyway, the witch will be here with her trolley soon."

"She isn't here today," Snape told him calmly. "She wanted to go to her family for Christmas, so they've put a buffet car on for this journey. Now go and do as you're told."

"Oh, all right," Malfoy grumbled, and headed for the door.

"And stay away for at least half an hour," Snape commanded. "I need some time to ... myself."

Malfoy left the compartment with alacrity; obviously the thought of escaping his unwelcome chaperon, however briefly, was appealing. Harry held his breath as Snape ensured the door was closed, pulled out his wand and carefully placed wards all around the compartment. He desperately hoped that Snape hadn't realised he was here, that the Professor was just going to have a nap or something ... but alas, his hope was in vain.

"Please remove your cloak, Mr Potter." Snape's tone was icy.

Harry reluctantly complied. Snape strode over and glared down at him, his glittering black eyes intent. He seized Harry by the hand and jerked him to his feet. "And just what are you doing here, Mr Potter?" he demanded. And when Harry remained obstinately silent: "Well, let's find out, shall we?" Snape raised his wand. "Legilimens!" he hissed menacingly.

Panicked, Harry thought back to Snape's dreaded Occlumency lessons: he remembered the hated voice saying "Repel me with your brain, Potter."

He felt the presence of Snape's mind intrude in his head, and pushed forcefully back. They battled wordlessly for a moment, then suddenly Harry found his head filled with pictures and thoughts which were not his own. With a start, Harry realised that contrary to his own suspicions, Snape was truly Dumbledore's man, and that he constantly risked his life in staying close to Voldemort ... there was also a dark undercurrent of feeling for Harry himself which he shied away from in shock ... and then something else which caught his attention even more strongly.

"You're the Half Blood Prince?" Harry gasped.

Snape looked away, abruptly breaking eye contact. "How did you do that, Mr Potter?" he muttered, looking pale and shaken.

Harry wished Snape wouldn't stand quite so close to him. He was having trouble breathing ... but that was because he hated the man so much ... wasn't it? He felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment when Snape moved away.

With a loud whistle the train suddenly roared into a tunnel; the compartment was plunged into darkness. There was a strong smell of sulphur as smoke from the engine billowed in through the opened window. Snape cursed and groped his way across the compartment. Harry heard the bang as Snape slammed the two halves of the window together. He fumbled for his wand to cast some light then with a jolt realised that he'd left it in the compartment with Ron. He heard Snape breathing heavily in the dark beside him; why doesn't he use Lumos? thought Harry hysterically. Of course, he's so like a bat he can probably see in the dark...

Harry began to panic and stumbled forward, trying to find the door, but in his confusion he brushed against Snape. He gasped, the train gave a sudden lurch, and Harry was thrown against the older wizard, who staggered back, off balance, his arms automatically going round the boy. Harry heard a low groan, a muttered oath, and then Snape's thin lips were pressed violently to his. Harry opened his mouth to shout in surprise but the man just took this as encouragement and thrust his tongue into the boy's mouth. Harry clutched at him, shaking, his thoughts whirling. Snape's kiss was hard, demanding, cruel even - then as he seemed to realise quite how inexperienced Harry was, it became gently exploring, and he finally pulled back and released the boy just as the train rushed out of the tunnel into the glaring light reflected from snow covered fields and hills all round.

For a moment Harry thought he detected an alien expression of tenderness on Snape's harsh features; then he was dazzled by the reflected snowlight and when he looked at him again Snape was as inscrutable as ever. "I thought you hated me," Harry said faintly.

"You can hate someone and still want to shag them senseless," growled Snape, his hands clenching into fists.

But Harry shook his head, secure in his new insight. "You don't hate me completely, though, do you?" he asked quietly. "Okay, you hate my dad - but that's only part of why you've been so horrible to me. You want me, don't you, but you think you can't have me."

Snape didn't reply at once. Then he pulled Harry towards him again and rested his cheek on the top of the boy's head, gazing moodily past him, out of the window. They stood together for a long moment, swaying to the movement of the train, the noise of it rumbling over the rails drumming in their ears. Each time Snape swayed forward he made sure he brushed against Harry's groin, until the boy was whimpering with his need.

"You've more perception than I gave you credit for," Snape whispered. He pushed Harry a little away from him, and crooked a long finger under the boy's chin, forcing him to look up. "But unfortunately, still not enough control. Your mind is too easily penetrated..."

"Why, what am I thinking?" Harry asked quickly.

Snape made an impatient sound. "Legilimency isn't the same as mind reading, I've told you that before. Anyway, you aren't thinking much at all." He smirked. "You're wondering how come you've let your hated Professor go so far. But at the same time, you're feeling proud and happy that your hero the Prince is paying you so much attention - aren't you?"

Harry blushed, then looked up at Snape and grinned cheekily. "Yeah, that's right sir," he said. Snape's face darkened, then he chuckled reluctantly and pulled Harry to him again.

The train was losing speed now as it began to labour up a steep gradient; Snape's pressure against Harry's groin became correspondingly slow and lingering.

"I'm ... sorry" he whispered, in time with his thrusts, "I'll ... have to ... modify ... your memory."

"Why?" groaned Harry, pulling away from the older wizard.

Snape regarded him sombrely. "Because, Mr Potter, despite my best efforts last year, your Occlumency skills remain lamentable."

Harry collapsed onto the train seat, staring provocatively up at Snape. "Well, I can't stop you, I suppose. But if you're going to do that, you might at least give me a memory worth forgetting!"

Snape sat down heavily beside him. "And just where did you learn to be so ... enticing ... Mr Potter?" he murmured, his dark eyes devouring Harry.

Harry frowned, he wasn't sure why he'd said that ... then he knew. He was sensing a deep urgent desire - from Snape - and responding to it, wanting to respond to it ...

The train had reached the top of the gradient now; it paused a moment, and then began the descent, gradually picking up speed.

Snape took Harry's hand and guided it inside the front of his robes, Harry was a bit scared, but excited too as he tentatively explored the big, hard bump swelling the older man's trousers. He and Ron had experimented a bit with each other's cocks after a few Butterbeers once or twice, but Snape's was in a different league entirely.

"This isn't the first time you've given me an erection, Potter," Snape whispered hotly "and I doubt it'll be the last ... but this is the only time you'll know it while I'm still your teacher."

"Why?" Harry asked. "I don't mind, I think, I think I want you, too, now -"

Snape gave him a long, unsmiling look. "No, Mr Potter," he said finally. "I'm afraid you're too young."

"I'm sixteen!" Harry said indignantly. "Plenty old enough to - " he broke off, blushing.

"To be buggered by your least favourite Professor?" Snape said ironically, raising an eyebrow. "No, Mr Potter, I don't think you'll be having that ... pleasure ... for some time." He looked a little sad. "If at all," he added quietly, almost to himself.

Harry stared at him. "But, er, can't we - " He stopped, not sure exactly what he was asking for.

"In a moment," Snape muttered. "We'll be going through another tunnel soon."

"Why? Oh, so people can't see us?"

"They can't see us anyway," Snape said idly. "I warded this compartment completely; if anyone does look in they'll think it's empty."

"Then why wait for a tunnel?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"You're better in the dark, Potter," sneered Snape. "I don't have to be reminded of your ... unfortunate ... parentage."

Harry glared at him. He was humiliated to find tears welling up in his eyes. "Then, don't," he managed to choke out, before the train did plunge into darkness again as it entered the next tunnel.

He felt himself being taken in a firm embrace. "Hush, I was teasing," came Snape's voice, sounding unexpectedly warm and caressing. Then, as Harry didn't relax into his hold, he added "I'm sure it must be easier in the dark for you, too. Forget I'm your hated Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher ..."

He brushed his lips against Harry's forehead, then breathed in his ear "... just think of me as the Half Blood Prince ..." And he began kissing Harry passionately, pushing him back onto the seat.

Harry gasped; Snape's hands seemed to be everywhere on him at once, caressing, coaxing, pulling open his clothing, finding bare skin .... Harry felt excited that he was so obviously turning Snape on and making him lose control. He had provoked Snape beyond endurance before, but then with the result that he'd hurled a jar of cockroaches at Harry's head: now any minute he'd be on top of him and ...

Oh WOW, Harry thought dazedly, his thoughts in a whirl, he's RUBBING himself on me ... he's rubbing HIMSELF on me ... he's rubbing himself on me THERE ... oh God oh oh OH, and Harry nearly fainted with pleasure.

But it had to end; and it did, much sooner than Harry would have liked. Snape reluctantly dragged himself away, breathing heavily, fighting for control. "No Potter," he gasped painfully. "No, I'm afraid it's time we said goodbye -"

He let Harry put himself to rights, then put his arm round his shoulders. "And now I have to wipe out your memory of what's happened here," he told the boy.

"No!" Harry protested forcefully. "I want to remember - everything!"

Snape sighed. "You're very young," he muttered. "Soon you'll be glad to lose some of your memories." He looked bleak. "I know I'd be very glad to be without some of mine."

"But you've no right taking away my memory of this," Harry snapped angrily.

"I've every right," Snape growled. "If I can penetrate your mind with such .. absurd ease," he let his hand trail casually down Harry's body "think how much more the Dark Lord - "

"But you and me, we've got a sort of - uh - connection now," Harry argued. "I got into your mind too, don't forget."

"Oh, I don't forget that," replied Snape. "But you have a connection with the Dark Lord too - " he ran a finger lightly over Harry's scar " - and my life wouldn't be worth, this " he snapped his fingers contemptuously "- if he ever discovers what you now know about me."

"Oh, yeah, of course," said Harry, his face falling. "I didn't think of that."

"Besides," Snape muttered, almost to himself, "I need to stay focussed, in order to survive, in order to do what Dumbledore wants of me. You would be a ... distraction." He gave Harry a long, unsmiling look, then reluctantly looked away.

"I can't afford any weakness now," he said harshly. "And neither can you, Mr Potter."

"Oh, okay," Harry said reluctantly. "Yeah, I can see it's necessary. But will I, I dunno, still feel, er this for you?" He glanced down.

"Don't worry, Mr Potter," Snape said. "Rest assured that you'll hate me as much as ever. More, if possible." His voice held the faint hint of a sneer, his expression was unfathomable - but with his newfound insight Harry sensed that Snape was concealing regret, even hurt. He tentatively pressed his hand over the older man's.

"Will we ever, you know, get this back?"

Snape scowled. "Maybe, one day, if we both come through in one piece," he said eventually. "But that's a long way off. I can't allow myself the luxury of even thinking of it."

Harry glanced at him shyly. "Could you, maybe give me something of yours? As a memento?"

"A memento?" said Snape, sounding surprised. "Silly boy, don't you realise that once I modify your memory, no memento will have the power to remind you of anything that's happened here today?"

"All the same," Harry said stubbornly. "I'd like one ... please?"

"Oh, very well," and Snape got up and rummaged around in his luggage on the rack. He produced a small bag and shook a collection of plant leaves onto the seat. "Choose your keepsake," he said, looking amused.

Harry looked at the leaves in wonder; he'd learned enough Herbology to know that they came from all over the world, grew in different climates and at different seasons, and yet here they were, all green and new-looking as if they'd been freshly picked.

"How?" he asked stupidly.

"An enchanted bag," Snape said airily. "I use it to keep some of my potion ingredients fresh until they're needed. Well, pick one, Potter, we're wasting time."

Harry looked seriously at him, fingered the leaves, and finally picked up a four-leaved clover.

Snape looked at him. "I wonder why you chose that," he murmured. "Very well, you may have it." He closed Harry's fingers around the plant and pressed a gentle kiss against the boy's knuckles. Harry was so absorbed he didn't notice Snape stealthily pulling out his wand. He felt a soft tap on the top of his bowed head, and then nothing more.

Ron hauled open their compartment door, balancing a stack of chocolate frogs, many flavour beans and sherbet lemons against his chest with his other hand. "Oh, hi, Harry," he said. "You're back then?"

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at his friend, puzzled. "Back?" he said, and yawned. "I've not been anywhere."

Ron stared at him. "But you went off to spy on Snape and Malfoy!" He gestured at Harry's Invisibility Cloak, neatly folded on the seat beside him.

Harry scowled. "No, I've ..." he paused, looking puzzled. "I think I've been here all the time," he said uncertainly. "I must've fallen asleep or something."

Ron shrugged and bounced down, spilling his armful of sweets onto the seat between them. "Well, never mind, they're not worth bothering with anyway. Have a chocolate frog?"

At King's Cross, Ron and Harry were among the first to leave the train; they ran joyfully down the platform to Mr Weasley. who stood waiting for them, beaming. They didn't notice Severus Snape standing at the door of the first class carriage, watching them sadly until they were out of sight.

That evening, as Harry was unpacking up in Ron's bedroom at the Burrow, he caught sight of the Half Blood Prince's copy of Advanced Potion-Making at the bottom of his trunk. Pulling it out he leafed absently through the pages, frowning. A fresh four-leaved clover fluttered down and landed on the floor.

Harry bent and picked it up. He stood for several minutes with it in his hand, staring out of the window. He knew that he'd forgotten something important, but the memory refused to come. He sighed ...

THE END