Pains and Contradictions 14.5

This mini-chapter was written as a gift to my wonderful beta, Torina, who edited an 11,000 word chapter in one day. She made a request: show the scene in which Harry grabs Snape's ass from Snape's POV.

Warnings: This should not be read if you have no read Chapter 14 of Pains and Contradictions. Thanks to Torina who beated her own gift. : )


Severus Snape stumbled a bit after his fifth rotation around the sofa in his sitting room, grabbing Harry as much as he could to keep himself from falling. In the end, however, his own grip had nothing on the deceptively strong arms of Gryffindor's star seeker.

"Shit." Harry whispered the expletive right next to his ear. Snape was distracted by the warm breath that was suddenly on his neck and chastising Harry for his foul language completely slipped his mind. Suddenly, the exhale of breath by his ear was the least of his problems as Harry brought his own body around to completely embrace Snape's, holding him up with both arms by his waist.

Snape paused for just a moment and glanced down to the messy head of dark hair that was currently struggling to hold him.

He shouldn't be doing this; he shouldn't be feeling this way. He most definitely shouldn't be so aroused at having that warm body press against his. His nose bumped against Harry's forehead and it took all his control to not allow himself to smell the young man's hair, to run his nose over Harry's face and neck, to simply inhale the scent of him.

But Snape did not do any of these things. He simply stood there, being held up like some puppet with its strings cut, and acted the part of the nobly suffering patient with an inadequate nursemaid.

"Unhand me, Potter!" Snape bellowed, both wanting Harry to leave him be and embrace him further at the same time. He cursed his own physical impairment but was grateful that he did not have to restrain the rest of his body from grabbing Harry's face in his hands, prying open his lips with his tongue and giving him a kiss so long in coming. The curse's affects were preventing that which, as far as he could see, was the only positive thing to come out of it.

"How the bloody hell can you weigh so much when you're so bloody thin?" Harry continued to swear as he tried and failed to grab his wand from his pocket. Snape sighed a bit after hearing the thing fall on the floor then roll under the sofa.

Harry must have given up trying to solve this problem using magic and began to half drag, half carry Snape around the sitting room to the sofa.

"Potter, you're being utterly ridiculous and I demand you put me down at once!" Snape said as he weakly attempted to push Harry's arms off of him.

It was all too much. Harry's face was inches from his own, his firm chest and broad shoulders were pushed up against him. Harry's arms were firm in the grasp of his waist and it was becoming pure torture to have the object of his desires so close to him and not be able to touch him.

Harry stopped halfway to the sofa, panting a bit in exertion. "Okay, fine. If you can actually push me away, I'll put you down on the floor here and let you levitate yourself to the sofa. I'm not going to drop you, though. Madame Pomfrey read me the riot act for letting you bruise yourself all over that first day."

He could do this. He was not so weak that he could not push the young man away from him. Perhaps six times around the room in as many days was a bit much to hope for but Snape had always been a stubborn patient. He picked up his arms and placed his hands on the small biceps of the younger man and stifled a gasp at how firm he found them. Small, yes, but pleasantly so. Snape began to lose control over his own arousal and before he could embarrass himself or worse, frighten Harry, he let go of the strong arms and conceded defeat. The Potions Master sighed and let his arms drop to a dead weight.

"Whoa," Harry said, as all of Snape's 180 pounds were suddenly rested upon him. The young man struggled to not allow Snape to fall, but at this point, he welcomed the hard floor as opposed to the hell he was currently trapped in. To have Harry so close but to not-

Snape could not restrain the audible gasp as he felt Harry's hand descend onto his arse.

Oh dear Merlin.

This was punishment, Snape decided. It wasn't enough that he had to endure torture and uncertainty that came from being a spy against the greatest dark lord that ever lived. No, apparently that cruel bitch, Fate, decided to let him grow so near to something that he could have. Never taste, never feel.

Harry's hand on his arse burned Snape with all the potency of fire. To be touched in such an intimate place by this beautiful young man was simultaneously the very height of ecstasy and one of the most cruel things that had ever happened to him.

Yes, it was a very good thing that he could barely move his arms, otherwise Harry Potter would have been very surprised to find himself being picked up by his own arse and thrown onto the sofa where he'd surely be stripped and find himself being kissed licked up and down by an impassioned Potions Master.

Snape adjusted his leg as he lost the battle against his own raging erection so as not to frighten the younger man. It would not do to have Harry know of this... abomination that Snape felt for him. He would not take away the young man's safe haven because as much as it continued to surprise him, he knew that was what his chambers currently were for Harry- a warm, welcoming place where he could be safe.

Rallying himself to put on the performance of a lifetime, Snape leaned low into Harry's ear and said, "I suggest you remove your hand from my arse immediately, Potter before I blast your own to oblivion."

"I'm trying, really," Harry said, who adjusted his grip enough to let go of the Snape's bottom and grabbed him from the waist yet again. As with everything concerning Harry these days, Snape both rejoiced and lamented the loss of that hand.

Harry grunted and continued half dragging, half carrying the Potions Master to the sofa, where he helped Snape to sit on the middle cushion.

Snape was panting and took a few moments to catch his breath as he stared into the fire. Next to him, he could feel Harry doing the same. He was finally in a calm state of mind when Harry broke the silence.

"I know you want to do a little more every day, Snape, but you're pushing yourself too hard. You could have fallen and then where would we be?"

Snape turned to Harry and immediately snapped his head back as he found Harry to be much closer than he had expected. Harry was sitting next to him on the sofa, almost on top of him. Snape forced himself to address the statement and looked into green eyes.

"My recovery is exactly that, Potter- my own. As long as Poppy continues to declare my growing health in her daily visits, I'll continue to do what I think is best." Snape sank further into the couch cushions and thought about his next words. Though he would hate to have Harry leave, he did not want the younger man to feel as though he had to stay. These rooms may be a haven for him now when Harry's grief was still so near, but that did not mean it would always be so. "I'll remind you that you do not have to remain here. The headmaster did indeed inform you that he could have rooms made for you on a moment's notice."

Snape felt more than saw Harry blanched and stiffened at his harsh words, and he could see the open look of fear in his eyes. How had he come to mean so much to the young man after such a short period of time? Looks like the one Harry was giving him did nothing to sooth the ache that came from seeing Harry and being in his presence for all his waking hours. He did not deserve to have such looks directed at him. Beautiful, brave young men did not look at Severus Snape that way, nor should they. But Snape took it as he took everything that came from Harry- with full knowledge that this was just another sacrifice on his part. That being in the presence of such a magnificent, untouchable young man was part of his penance and that helping Harry was something only he could do.

Though he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the young man's company far too much. While it was painful seeing Harry across his make-shift breakfast table every morning, he admitted that his absence would be twice as painful.

Harry was quiet in his fear for a long minute before he said plainly, "Yeah, I know. But I'm not here for you, remember?"

Snape leaned further back into the cushions, distancing himself from Harry, and nodded. Harry broke his gaze and looked down to the seat of the sofa. Snape aimed his eyes downward but did not move his head.

Snape sighed a bit as he took in his pale shaking hands next to Harry's healthy-looking ones. He knew now that his efforts to build up strength in order to return to his lab in the next few days were impossible to achieve. There was no way he'd be able to stand at a table for an hour. He could barely keep his fingers from twitching now. Snape turned his eyes away from the offensive digits and returned his gaze to the fire, distracted only a moment later by the feather light brush of fingers over his.

Snape flinched and looked down to where Harry had run his fingers lightly over his own.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

Hurt him? Snape had never experienced such kind touches in all his life.

The memory of bedding dozens of strangers over the years came back to him in a flash as he took in the impossibly green eyes only inches away. No, he'd never known a touch like that. He had grabbed and been grabbed, fondled, sucked and had fucked men; most of whose names he'd never known.

But no. No one had never simply run their fingers over his hand.

Snape's fought to keep his face straight, but doubted even he could keep the raw desire from flooding his eyes. Harry continued to look at him until Snape shook his head and said, "No, you did not."

Harry frowned and opened his mouth, no doubt to ask some question that would be very difficult if not impossible to answer. Snape beat him to the punch. "What will you be doing this evening, Potter? It's been days and you've yet to leave the dungeons. Have you not grown tired of wearing the same clothing for over a week?"

Harry looked down at his oversized shirt and blue jeans that he had been wearing in addition to Lupin's adjusted clothes for the past few days now. He really did look odd in them, Snape thought, but also realized that with a family such as his these clothes were probably the best he could have hoped for.

Harry shrugged. "I'm almost afraid to go and ask the headmaster if he can get my trunk from my relatives for me. I'm half afraid he won't let me come back down here if I leave."

Snape looked at Harry, amused. Was the young man so content here that he would risk cabin fever before he allowed the headmaster to remove him? He looked at him intently and said softly, "I would not worry so much, Potter. If the headmaster wanted you elsewhere he would have made it so by now." Snape looked away to the fire again, "Or at least given you one hell of a fight."

Harry laughed, then joined Snape in looking at the fire and sobered quickly. Snape did not ask what was on the young man's mind but the frown that came quickly upon his face was curious, as was the slight glare in his eye.

It did not take such a jump of logic to realize Harry must have been thinking about Draco.

Draco Malfoy who was currently planning and plotting to mingle Snape's soul with his own.

As he had whenever this subject came to mind, Snape calmed himself from the flash of fear and dread by telling himself that he was being careful- even in his own rooms. And he would continue to take every caution when the school year began. He would not find himself bound to a Malfoy. Death would come first.

As Snape's mind wandered over his current predicament, Harry stood up and said, "Um... do you mind, though, if I leave for a little while? Not for long," Harry put up a hand to stall some imagined argued that Snape was not about to give. If Harry wanted to take a walk around the castle Snape would not deny him. "I just... want to check on Remus. It's been a couple of days since the full moon and I want to see him."

Oh.

As much as he knew Harry enjoyed the werewolf's presence, it had still only been a few days since the full moon. Though he knew Lupin was most likely up and capable of functioning, he also knew that he would gain additional strength with more rest. Snape took his time in answering and looked at Harry, saying slowly, "I don't think that's a very wise idea, Potter."

Harry frowned, no doubt feeling as though Snape was keeping him from visiting his friend for malicious reasons.

"But why? Full moon's past and it's got to be hell on Remus. Why shouldn't I visit him?"

Snape leaned back in the sofa and carefully thought out his next choice of words. "How much do you actually know about lycanthropy, Potter? You know of the pain that Lupin goes through on the full moon, do you not?"

Harry nodded, no doubt recalling his recent adventure involving polyjuice.

"Tell me- what was it like being in Lupin's skin, feeling what he felt?"

Harry turned away from Snape and said softly, "It was awful pain. It wasn't anything like I'd ever felt before. It was constant and it was burning and it was everywhere. No one should have to feel pain like that."

Snape nodded. "I can imagine. Now you realize that you were feeling that pain weeks after his transformation on the full moon. How do you think Lupin is feeling right now?"

Harry turned to Snape and seemed to consider the question. Apparently, silence was the best answer he could come up with.

"Precisely. I imagine any additional rest he can possibly get would only be to his benefit."

Harry sat on the sofa next to Snape and deflated. As much as he hated to see Harry look so defeated, Snape knew it would be to Lupin's benefit to get as much quality rest as he could take. In Snape's mind, anything that benefited Lupin benefited Harry, seeing as how the young man so hated to see his friend in pain.

Snape was forcibly torn from his thoughts as a hand grazed his own and then moved to cup it. Snape immediately stilled and with baited breath realized what was happening.

Harry was holding his hand. Snape looked over at Harry, and saw that the young man had a look of complete innocence and contentment on his face. Looking into green eyes, Snape knew that Harry had no idea what he was doing. The young man had no clue as to his own appeal nor did he understand Snape's reactions.

Summoning all of his skills, he fought against his own desires and put what he was sure was at most a half-hearted sneer on his face as he prepared to put on the act of the century.

"Exactly what do you think you're doing, Potter?"

Harry frowned and looked up at Snape, his face marred with confusion.

"Your hand was shaking," Harry said, as though he was pointing out the obvious. "And now it's not."

Snape looked down at their entwined hands. He saw the smaller one in his and tried his best not to grip it tightly to his chest, to claim the young man next to him. Yes, the act of the century indeed. The Dark Lord himself had never seen Snape jump through such hoops as he was now.

He took his eyes off their hands and looked into the fire, only to realize that there was no removing that image from his mind's eye. The remembrance of Harry's hand in his the other night in the infirmary burned on his memory and he knew that this was one fight he would not win. He wouldn't take his hand away from Harry's, not when he could feel those green eyes on him, so afraid of being turned away.

In the end Snape sighed and looked down again at their joined hands.

I must not tell lies.

It was a disgrace for such a statement to be marked onto the hand of a young man that told the truth so easily. He closed his eyes and ran his thumb over the scar, his mind running over healing salves, and for a moment, allowed himself to be content. He couldn't take back what had happened but he could do something about this.