A Rewarding Punishment

Ok... so this is like the third thing I've post, including chapter 9 of Face Down, in just over 48 hours. That's got to be a record for me. This is my first completed Snarry fic. There is one more chapter in the works, maybe more depending on how feel when the 2nd one is done. I have another Snarry fic that will be about three chapters long. I've been working on it for a while but its one of those ones I can't write in order so chapter 1 isn't finished yet. I hope to have it up soon though.

When I post chapter two, there will be some warnings added. I dont want to give it away right now though so I'm leaving them out until then.

This story is un-beta'd so all the mistakes are my own. Please read, rate, review, and enjoy!!!!!

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It was ten o’clock on the last night of term of Harry's fourth year, half an hour ‘til curfew and yet the black-haired, bespectacled fourteen year old was nowhere near Gryffindor tower. In fact, he was almost as far away as one could get while still being inside the castle.

Harry had been in a depression induced daze since the morning after the graveyard incident. He hadn’t spoken much after relaying everything that happened, over and over, with nothing new coming out of the old information. They only, finally, stopped questioning him when Harry dozed off, listening to their muttering of what it could all mean, and fell out of the chair he had been occupying.

But none of that was the cause for his depression. Nothing Voldemort had even done to him was the reason. The reason… was Cedric’s death and the fact that it was totally and completely Harry's fault that he died.

When they let him rest and heal from the torment he had been put through, he felt strangely weighed down about it. It felt wrong somehow, like he had done something bad, gotten away with, and now felt guilty that he wasn’t being punished. He wanted, no needed, to be punished for letting Cedric die. That was the only way for him to feel right again.

Which is why Harry was now in the dungeons, headed toward the one person that he knew could give him what he wanted without giving it a second thought. After all, the man belittled him daily in front of his classmates, how was in private any different?

Rather calmly, Harry knocked on the door to the potion master’s private quarters. He was slightly surprised Snape even answered and in nothing but a pair of dark blue, cotton pajama pants.

“What do you want at this hour, Potter?” The man asked, understandably annoyed. Harry strode past him without answering or even looking at him.

“I need to be punished, sir.” He stated once he was standing in the middle of the room, still facing away from his professor.

“Fine, you can have a week’s worth of detention next term since you obviously won’t be making it back to your dormitory before curfew. Now kindly leave me in peace.” Snape said sharply.

Harry shook his head, dark, shaggy hair bouncing with the movement and said quietly, “It doesn’t feel right.”

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He decided to indulge the boy just to see if it would get him out any faster. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked as he shut the door.

Everything; was what Harry really wanted to say. But he knew the man behind him would just tell him to be more specific in that condescending tone of his.

“That night, Cedric…” He stopped there. The last thing Harry wanted was to start crying and be pitied because if he did, he’d never get what he came for.

“Of course it doesn’t feel right, Harry.” Professor Snape said softly. Now that he thought he knew exactly why Harry had come, he was going to be gentler. He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder and Harry very nearly flinched at the soft touch. “You watched someone die. Few people can see such a thing and come out unscathed. But despite what you may think, it’s not your—”

“DON’T!” Harry shouted as he wrenched his shoulder away from the hand and turned to face the man. The fact that Snape, the person he thought would yell at him for it, was trying to tell him it wasn’t his fault made him angry, angry enough that it stopped the tears building in his eyes and to try goading the man into yelling at him. “Don’t say it’s not may fault because it is. If it weren’t for me, Cedric would be here still, sleeping or maybe sneaking around to snog Cho a bit more before leaving tomorrow. But he’s not and it’s my fault!” He yelled, voice cracking with the volume.

Snape opened his mouth to speak but apparently Harry wasn’t done with his tirade. “Damn it, you fucking bastard! I thought you were the one person that I could come to, to make it feel right again. I thought you would bitch at me until I was cowering in fear and actually trying to deny that it was my fault!

“You, the great greasy bat of the dungeons, always so ready to put some one down for the tiniest transgression, don’t even have what it takes to yell at me for something this big!” Harry was screaming now, venting all his anger onto the man he came to for help.

“Is that what you want, Harry? To be punished for Cedric’s death?” Snape asked, rather unaffected by the boy’s outburst.

“Yes.” Harry said softer than before. “I want you to yell at me so I can feel something close to normal again. Everyone’s been walking on eggshells around me like I’ll break if they so much as think about talking to me about what happened. I want to go back to normal.”

“And what did you have in mind for this punishment?” He asked, a small amount of curiosity in his voice.

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it. Just yell at me, I suppose.” Harry replied, shoulders slumping and head hanging.

“Such a Gryffindor trait and just like your father to put a plan into action without thinking it through.” Snape said offhandedly. If Harry wanted to be yelled at that badly, he was going to have to get angry first and to get angry, he’d have to make Harry angry.

“Fucker! Only you would bring up something like that at a time like this!” Harry bellowed. “That has absolutely nothing to do with anything!”

“Of course it does. You inherited your idiocy from someone didn’t you?” The potions master asked, anger already rising in his voice from the thought of his childhood nemesis and Harry's disrespectful language toward a teacher.

“You let Cedric die, Harry. He was only seventeen and you led him straight to his death. You might as well have held the wand that killed him yourself.” Snape said in his calm sort of anger.

Snape continued on this path of insulting Harry. He pointed out every little thing Harry could have done differently that might have saved Cedric’s life.

But Harry wasn’t just sitting back and taking it. He yelled back and matched him insult for insult. This is normal. Arguing with Snape, normal.

At some point they moved on from just the graveyard incident to every stupid thing Harry had ever done. Back and forth, louder and louder until they could hardly hear what the other was saying over their own voice.

Finally Harry faltered. He was out of insults that he hadn’t already repeated at least three times and the small pause in the noise seemed to break the damn of emotions inside him. The reason he had come here came back to him and the weight of his guilt was mostly gone. Everything he had bottled up for the past week manifested itself as tears as his knees buckled under him.

Snape stood rooted to the spot for a moment. Harry breaking down like this in his quarters was the last thing he expected to see and he was at a loss about what to do.

“Don’t… don’t cry.” He said rather stupidly as he crouched down next to the sobbing boy.

Suddenly, he was pushed off the balls of his feet onto his arse and had a lap full of crying Harry. His arms went around the man’s neck as he straddled Snape’s lap and continued crying into his chest.

Awkwardly, Snape put his arms around the distraught young man and shifted to his right until he was leaning against the front of his couch. He unconsciously started rocking back and forth trying his best to sooth him.

As Harry felt himself calming down, he became acutely alert of where he was sitting. He’d hardly noticed or cared when he threw himself at the other but now, being pressed against the half naked man, feeling him and smelling him, it was having an effect on his teenage hormones in a way that was difficult to hide. And the rocking wasn’t exactly helping at all.

All of a sudden, the rocking stopped. All of the man’s moving stopped. In fact, Snape seemed to have quit breathing. And the reason why was becoming obvious to Harry if the man’s rapidly growing erection had anything to say about it.

Out of anxiety, Harry shifted a bit on the man’s lap and he heard a sharp intake of breath right above his head. He leaned back to sit up a little and saw that Snape’s eyes were shut tight and a drop of blood was forming where his teeth had sank into his bottom lip.

Harry unknowingly bit his own lip, though not nearly as hard, trying to figure out what to make of the situation. It wasn’t very har— difficult for him to understand that the man whose lap he was occupying was turned on by him. But was it out of actual attraction for the raven haired teen? Or was it just the idea of another aroused male being so close?

Without really thinking about it, Harry lightly pressed his lips to the older man’s. He’d never kissed anyone before and he was distantly worried that he might be doing it wrong. Until there was an increase in pressure that he hadn’t caused. He gasped in surprise and a slippery tongue took advantage of the opening to slide into his mouth, the coppery taste of blood hitting his tongue.

Just as quickly as it started, that sinful mouth pulled away from his. Harry's half-lidded eyes opened fully to gaze into the black eyes staring at him in fear and confusion.

Harry leaned closer to Snape, trying to bring their lips back together. The first kiss had made his heart pound and his stomach flutter. It was a feeling he wanted back after having it taken so rudely away.

A hand on his chest halted his advancement and nearly dislodged Harry from Snape’s lap. But he locked his knees tightly around the legs between his and held his place, looking almost defiant.

“You’re fourteen, Harry.” Snape finally broke the silence between them.

“And that means I don’t know what I want?” Harry retorted.

Snape sighed. “You’re just too young.”

“So I’m old enough to have a madman trying to kill me, old enough to be expected to murder said madman, but I’m not old enough to do what I please with my own body? I could die tomorrow!” Harry said darkly.

Snape was at a loss for words. The boy did have a point. But there in lies the problem: He’s just a boy, a boy who was thrust into manhood at the early age of eleven.

A soft groan suddenly past Snape’s lips when Harry unexpectedly rocked his hips, rubbing their erections together through several layers of clothing. The man’s resolve was slowly eroding away.

Then just as suddenly, a pair of lips was on his and an eager tongue forced its way into his mouth. And for a moment, Snape forgot who he was, who was on his lap and why this was all wrong. It had been so long and just felt too damn good for him to want to stop it.

Large, pale hands gripped lithe hips and continued to grind them together as Harry's smaller hands buried themselves in silky, black hair and pulled them closer together.

When he was sure Harry would keep up the movement on his own, Snape moved his hands to undo the front of Harry's robe and push the fabric out of his way. Removing it completely would just take too much time and he didn’t want the wonderful friction on his cock to stop unless absolutely necessary.

With that task completed, Snape’s hands found there way to the button of Harry's jeans and popped it open, the zipper coming down quickly after. His chilly hands wrapped around the rather impressive length they found hidden behind a layer of denim and cotton. He pumped him a few times before sliding around to squeeze the teen’s arse.

Reluctantly, Snape wrenched his mouth away from Harry's and replaced it with three fingers. He moved to nip and suck at a lightly tanned neck, groaning against the flesh as a wicked tongue swirled around his fingers, coating them adequately. His hand found its way back to the firm arse and slid down the crevice.

Harry gasped as a finger circled his entrance before sliding in to the knuckle. It was an unfamiliar feeling but he welcomed it nonetheless. A second finger joined the first after a few thrusts and twists. The dark-haired boy hissed at the burning sensation caused by it and his lips were captured again, distracting him from the pain.

When the third finger entered him, Harry's hips stopped undulating as he gave a pained whine and gripped Snape’s biceps. The fingers stilled for a moment, allowing him to become accustom to the feeling.

Almost immediately as they started pumping and scissoring again, the fingers brushed against something inside Harry that had him moaning long and hard into the man’s mouth.

“W-what… was that?” Harry gasped, fucking himself on the fingers trying to find that spot again.

A smirk formed on the potion master’s lips. “That…” He hit the bundles of nerves again. “… was your prostate. You’re about to become very well acquainted with it.”

One of the fingers pressed against that spot and rubbed it continuously. Harry could feel as much as hear his voice rise in pitch and volume as he incessantly moaned, groaned, and gasped at the sensation.

A pleasurable burning made its way from his groin all the way to his curling toes. It just felt so good Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop or if he wanted to find a way to make sure he always felt like that.

As Harry felt himself nearing his peak, the fingers stopped their teasing. He whined in disappointment when they were removed, leaving him feeling very empty.

“Pants. Off. Now.” Snape gritted out.

Harry's head snapped up from the shoulder it had been leaning against. He may have slightly forgotten what or who was causing so much pleasure through out his body.

A second later, Harry was on his feet fumbling to find the hem of his jeans and boxers to pull them down. At the same time, Snape was shimmying his pajama pants down his legs, not bothering to waste time actually removing them.

Another second later and Harry was back in his lap, tongues, lips, and teeth battling for dominance. Both males moaned loudly when their hardened flesh came into contact for the first time.

Some how, through his hazy mind, Snape managed to find his wand on the nearby end table. He dropped it several times on the way back to Harry's rear end and held it backwards when he first tried to cast a lubrication charm in the boy’s stretched pucker.

His mind was so overwhelmed by the pleasure of Harry grinding against him that Snape very nearly decided to just take him dry. But the thought of causing him pain made the man hold out long enough to right his wand and cast the spell.

Harry moaned softly as the cool liquid lined his insides and stilled when strong hands grabbed his hips. He was pulled up onto his knees so he was hovering over the man’s hard, red cock.

One of Snape’s hands left his hip to grip the base of his length while the other guided Harry downward onto it. The head slipped easily past the tight ring of muscle guarding his most intimate place. He was lowered a little more by both hands and he winced as a burning pained seared through him.

Tears pricked at his closed eyes as he was held still by the hands guiding. A kiss was placed on his lips and Harry opened his mouth to welcome the invading muscle. Their tongues danced slowly and lazily until Harry realized he was fully seated on Snape cock.

He looked up it see an intense concentration on the man’s face, similar to the one he wore right before Harry kissed him. There was a smear of dried blood just under his lower lip and a new bead of the red liquid was forming in the same place as before.

It was a look that made Harry's cock throb.

When Snape had yet to move or make Harry move, he experimentally lifted himself up a bit and slid back down the hard length inside him, eliciting a drawn out moan from the man and Harry groaned at the feeling of it filling him up so beautifully.

The hands on his hips tightened and lifted Harry back up, leaving little more than the tip inside him. There was a pause and he was slammed back down almost cruelly. He gasped when the head slid against his prostate but then the sound was swallowed by Snape when he started kissing him with bruising force.

The fucking was hard, fast, and brutal; exactly what Harry needed. He moaned when the head of the thick cock in him would randomly push against that spot. He gasped when Snape bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and groan when the man lapped at it.

“Oh god… I think… I’m gunna…” Harry moaned out when the angle of his hips was changed so that his prostate was hit dead on with every stroke. A hand left his hip and wrapped around his cock, tugging in a differently rhythm than the one being pounded into him.

The dueling sensations had him erupting over Snape’s hand after just a few pulls. He screamed out something that sounded like, “Sneverus” against the man’s throat and bit down on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

The added pain had Snape thrusting up and pulling Harry down one last time before spilling himself in the boy’s tight heat, a low groan and a string of profanities tumbling past his lips.

Harry collapsed against the sweaty chest in front of him as Snape fell back against the couch. They stayed like this for the next several minutes as they tried to get their breathing and heart rates back down to something close to normal.

When Harry finally sat up straight, he shivered as an after shock of pleasure raced up his spine from the softened cock inside him shifting. He looked up at the man at was met with an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“What?” Harry asked softly, unable to get his voice as loud or harsh as he wanted.

The brow went higher. “Sneverus?”

Harry blushed darker than the flush that had already adorned his cheeks and fingered the hem of his sweat-drenched shirt. “I didn’t know if I should call you ‘Snape’ or ‘Severus’. That’s what came out I guess.” He replied. A small smile graced Snape’s lips.

“I think… you need to go to bed, Harry.” Snape said after a few more minutes of comfortable silence.

“Don’t wanna.” He mumbled, his face once against pressed against a pale chest.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to. It would not bode well for either of us to be caught in this position.” He retorted, reverting back to normal Snape as the post-orgasmic high had worn off.

With stiff legs, Harry got to his feet, sighing softly as Snape’s spent cock slid out of him, semen dripping down his thighs. He ignored it and winced as he bent over to retrieve his discarded clothing and slipped his legs into the garments.

By the time he was fully clothed; Snape had pulled his own pants back on, had cast a cleaning spell to get rid of Harry's essence, and was waiting by the door.

“I trust this… incident has succeeded in easing your guilt.” Snape said as Harry moved to stand beside him.

Harry smiled at the potions professor, realizing that he did feel a whole lot better, great in fact. “Yeah.” He answered softly.

Snape opened the door and Harry stepped over the threshold. “This never happened and it will not be happening again, Potter.” He stated, silently conveying that he is not to tell a single person about it.

“Of course not, professor.” Harry said with a small smile, knowing full well that nothing will have changed between them. And that’s exactly how he wanted it.