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Lentesco
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
46
Views:
30,816
Reviews:
221
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
46
Views:
30,816
Reviews:
221
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
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.
Chapter One
Hiya, as usual, CT (WHY do you never review?!) has nagged me into this. I hope you enjoy - I write much quicker when people review (hint hint!) SP
Lentesco – Chapter One
“Why do you reckon Snape was such a git?” Ron asked suddenly one evening, completely ruining Harry’s mood in the process.
As always when he thought of their ex teacher, Harry felt a weird churning in the pit of his stomach, as if he’d swallowed one of George’s Rumbly Tummy Tricks. He shrugged, not really wanting to think about the other man. Things with Snape were … complicated.
He remembered Snape being bitten, and learning all of the man’s secrets, and, as surprising for the teacher as for anyone else, not dying. Instead, going to St Mungo’s, and slowly healing. Harry had visited him in hospital, but it had been made clear to him that Snape hated him being there, hated seeing his face, hated his questions, hated the look of gratitude and pity on his face, hated, hated, hated Harry. So, instead, he had visited, but asked the Medi Witches how he was getting on.
It had taken three months before the man was able to start terrorising those outside the hospital. And he had done so. People had tried to praise him, to thank him (Harry having made sure Snape and Sirius were exonerated), and one and all had remembered that the man might be a hero, but he was still an evil tempered bastard.
Harry recalled the surprise he had felt upon learning that Snape had returned to Hogwarts as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It did make sense to Harry; after all the man clearly knew how to defend against them, otherwise he would never have lasted as a spy. Still, Harry had never really had the feeling that Snape enjoyed teaching.
Which brought him back to wondering why Snape had been, and was still, such a git.
Hermione, when no answer seemed to ever be forthcoming from Harry, had turned to her boyfriend. “Maybe Harry’s grown up,” she remarked archly, “maybe he’s moved on.”
Ron gave her a grin that said he understood the insult and was choosing to ignore it. “Come on, mate,” he urged as Harry stayed silent, “what do you reckon? Not getting laid?”
Both Hermione and Harry gave vent to loud “EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWs,”
Looking rather green, the girl said, “Ron! I never want to think about Snape having sex, ever is that clear?”
He grinned, feeling pleased that he had so quickly paid her back for her veiled comment of a few moments previously.
Harry shook his head, trying to clear it of that disturbing image. Here in Hermione and Ron’s warm comfortable living room, it was difficult to imagine the man they were discussing. Idly, Harry wondered what Snape was up to.
Snape was lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing, his eyes closed, as an expert hand moved up and down his shaft. His hips shifted slightly as they always did. Every week he promised himself that he would just ejaculate and get it over with, but every week he found himself moving into the firm grip, biting back moans of enjoyment. The truly mortifying part was that it was Poppy Pomfrey who was doing this to him.
Still, needs must, and all that.
He groaned, legs shifting a little as he tried to control his body. It was no good. As usual, he gasped, panted, and came, a long drawn out “Nnnnnnnnnnnnnh!” spilling from his thin lips.
Pomfrey vanished the ejaculate and held out a damp cloth to him. Snape dabbed himself clean and tucked his momentarily sated length neatly away.
“My thanks, Poppy,” he said, as always.
“Don’t be late next week.” She replied, again as always.
He waited for her to leave with a rustle of starched clothing, before he swung off the bed and made his sad way down to his rooms. He really wanted to avoid his normal routine – remembering what it was that had him relying on the school nurse to jack him off once a week. But, it was no good, it came flooding back as he entered the classroom, quickly passing through it to his private office.
Lentesco – Chapter One
“Why do you reckon Snape was such a git?” Ron asked suddenly one evening, completely ruining Harry’s mood in the process.
As always when he thought of their ex teacher, Harry felt a weird churning in the pit of his stomach, as if he’d swallowed one of George’s Rumbly Tummy Tricks. He shrugged, not really wanting to think about the other man. Things with Snape were … complicated.
He remembered Snape being bitten, and learning all of the man’s secrets, and, as surprising for the teacher as for anyone else, not dying. Instead, going to St Mungo’s, and slowly healing. Harry had visited him in hospital, but it had been made clear to him that Snape hated him being there, hated seeing his face, hated his questions, hated the look of gratitude and pity on his face, hated, hated, hated Harry. So, instead, he had visited, but asked the Medi Witches how he was getting on.
It had taken three months before the man was able to start terrorising those outside the hospital. And he had done so. People had tried to praise him, to thank him (Harry having made sure Snape and Sirius were exonerated), and one and all had remembered that the man might be a hero, but he was still an evil tempered bastard.
Harry recalled the surprise he had felt upon learning that Snape had returned to Hogwarts as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It did make sense to Harry; after all the man clearly knew how to defend against them, otherwise he would never have lasted as a spy. Still, Harry had never really had the feeling that Snape enjoyed teaching.
Which brought him back to wondering why Snape had been, and was still, such a git.
Hermione, when no answer seemed to ever be forthcoming from Harry, had turned to her boyfriend. “Maybe Harry’s grown up,” she remarked archly, “maybe he’s moved on.”
Ron gave her a grin that said he understood the insult and was choosing to ignore it. “Come on, mate,” he urged as Harry stayed silent, “what do you reckon? Not getting laid?”
Both Hermione and Harry gave vent to loud “EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWs,”
Looking rather green, the girl said, “Ron! I never want to think about Snape having sex, ever is that clear?”
He grinned, feeling pleased that he had so quickly paid her back for her veiled comment of a few moments previously.
Harry shook his head, trying to clear it of that disturbing image. Here in Hermione and Ron’s warm comfortable living room, it was difficult to imagine the man they were discussing. Idly, Harry wondered what Snape was up to.
Snape was lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing, his eyes closed, as an expert hand moved up and down his shaft. His hips shifted slightly as they always did. Every week he promised himself that he would just ejaculate and get it over with, but every week he found himself moving into the firm grip, biting back moans of enjoyment. The truly mortifying part was that it was Poppy Pomfrey who was doing this to him.
Still, needs must, and all that.
He groaned, legs shifting a little as he tried to control his body. It was no good. As usual, he gasped, panted, and came, a long drawn out “Nnnnnnnnnnnnnh!” spilling from his thin lips.
Pomfrey vanished the ejaculate and held out a damp cloth to him. Snape dabbed himself clean and tucked his momentarily sated length neatly away.
“My thanks, Poppy,” he said, as always.
“Don’t be late next week.” She replied, again as always.
He waited for her to leave with a rustle of starched clothing, before he swung off the bed and made his sad way down to his rooms. He really wanted to avoid his normal routine – remembering what it was that had him relying on the school nurse to jack him off once a week. But, it was no good, it came flooding back as he entered the classroom, quickly passing through it to his private office.