Part 11- Sugar Plum Dreams
Severus Snape walked down the hallway quietly, holding a pile of parchment and staring at the polished stone floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Unbeknownst to anyone, however, his mind was many miles away from his surroundings, and he was quite content without extending his consciousness beyond his thoughts.
He was thinking about Harry. The child had once been the foundation of his hatred, since he had inherited James’ black, messy hair, and Lily’s stunningly green eyes. The mental agony had come from the idea that Harry was born out of something that should have been his, and his alone, as well as the misery that had come from the sickening knowledge of his own betrayal to his former lover. He could still taste Harry within his mouth, a mere ghost of a flavour since it had disappeared long ago. He felt oddly numb, since the kissing had left him fuzzily warm inside, and the feeling was alien, yet strangely comfortable. Snape let his eyes wander up from the dark floor, and he abruptly stepped over to a window, peering out to the crisply cold atmosphere outside. He pressed his fingertips to the cold glass, slender fingers bending ever so slightly as he gazed down at the snow. The moonlight fell down upon him in a blue, luminous glow, bathing him and the floor beneath him in cold light. He shivered inwardly, the sensation trembling inside his belly as the winter chill flooded his body with a light shock.
It was nighttime, Christmas evening, and Snape sighed drearily, dark eyes focused on the falling snowflakes. He was going to be all alone again-Harry had needed to go back home, to spend time with Sirius and Remus, but Snape couldn’t blame him. Both of them had become his family, more or less, and Harry required family more than anything.
Severus turned from the window and started walking down to the dungeons, abandoning the thoughts of being alone and forcing his mind to settle upon the pile of potion material forms he had to fill out before the beginning of school commenced. His office, as well as the entrance to the dungeons, was positioned several feet away from the entrance to the Slytherin common room, which lead into his dungeons and were similarly furnished to his quarters. He stepped down into his office, having lit his room completely. He settled the parchment upon his desk, and Moth hooted at him from his chair, staring up at him in welcome. Severus gathered the adorable bird within his arms and gave him a kiss on the head, and felt Moth’s frail wings shift slightly. Severus put the owl down, and Moth reached forward without moving his feet, nipping at the fingers extended to him. A sudden glimpse of orange light made Snape look up, his eyes catching the light coming from the door leading to his quarters. It was cracked open, and wondering why the locked door was open, the Potions Master walked forward cautiously. He slid a hand through the crack, pushing the door open lightly as he got a good grip on the wood, and then silently nudged it open.
The only sound was the grandfather clock in the corner of his room, ticking as the seconds went by, and Severus’ eyes immediately fell upon the person occupying his bed. A quill quietly scratched across the surface of parchment, and the sound, albeit faint, slowly began to drift to his ears.
He had endured pain in his life, more pain than anyone should deserve, but even at the end of it all, this was the sort of thing that made it all worth it. Severus studied the slender hand holding the quill, the inkwell sitting precariously upon his bedding, and he vaguely wondered if he was going to spill it all over his bed. A horrific mental image of black ink spreading all over his silken blankets and sheets filled his mind, but he restrained the urge to take out his wand and put the black bottle elsewhere. He apparently hadn’t even noticed that Severus was in the room, and it annoyed the Potions Master mildly, but he couldn’t be left at fault. Snape had a tendency to move silently, and he had startled his fair share of people within his lifetime.
“Hello, Harry,” Snape said, quietly. Harry looked up immediately from his parchment, green eyes blinking in surprise. The teenager seemed unsure of himself for a moment, and Severus gazed at him levelly, wondering when he was going to say something. The adam’s apple in Harry’s throat bobbed briefly as he swallowed, and Severus knew Harry was thinking. Apparently he hadn’t expected Snape to enter without a sound, because he obviously had something planned.
“I didn’t know you were even here…” He said, the words almost like a whisper from his lips. Snape could hear it, however, since the only sound in the entire room was the ticking of the clock in the corner. Moth hooted from the other room, and there was a rustle of papers. The corner of Snape’s lips twitched a bit as he heard parchment fall to his office floor, and he resisted the urge to go back and right the mess his owl had created. Harry saw the slight twitch and glanced downward at the inkwell upon Snape’s bed, and then he picked it up, leaning over and placing the bottle down upon the rug. “Sorry,” his tone was timid for a moment, since he couldn’t read into Snape’s thoughts. He watched Snape’s expression as time ticked by, without any movement from either of them. Then Severus gave a long sigh, crossing his arms and giving him a curious look. His black robe sleeves fell down his slender, skinny wrists, and he looked down upon them briefly as if wondering why there suddenly was so much room around his arms.
“What’re you doing here, Harry?” Snape asked, pointedly, and a slender eyebrow rose. He, himself, had no idea how Harry had come across possession of his keys, but it’s not as if he was complaining about the fact that Harry Potter was lying half naked, tangled in his black silk sheets.
“Dumbledore gave me a copy of your keys,” Harry said, giving him a smile that extended far from his lips into his green eyes. Severus’ eyes narrowed. Why would Dumbledore give a former student access to his chambers? Then again, Harry Potter was always the exception, and always would be…”I’m sorry if you’re angry at me. I didn’t think you would mind me staying here for a bit…do you?”
“I thought you were going to Black and Lupin’s,” Severus said, stiffly, and his voice wasn’t the only thing that was stiff. Urging himself to banish thoughts of the sort out of his mind, the disturbance faded away ever so briefly, just enough so that it wasn’t noticeable just by sight.
“I decided to come back…” Harry gave a long yawn. “You sure stayed in that office for a long time. I used a lot of your parchment…” he gave a nonchalant wave at the crumpled pieces littering the ground, and Severus’ anal tendencies to clean up every mess twinged within his consciousness. The teen lazily stretched out upon the bed, and Severus saw his soft looking belly as he rolled over, looking at him. Severus eyed his body briefly, and noted that Harry was wearing his own silk green pyjamas. “I Apparated back home, but both Sirius and Remus shoved me out of the house and told me I had to go back here.” Harry gave a smirk and tilted his head in a fetchingly sweet way, his black hair falling over emerald green eyes. Severus walked over and took the bottle of ink, recapping it and placing it upon his bedstand. “Sorry about that. I was making sure that it wouldn’t spill…” The young Quidditch player leaned over and took Snape’s hand, nudging him so he would come and sit on the bed. Severus hesitated briefly, his foot jerking back, but he sat down begrudgingly. He was completely silent, and Harry sat up, touching his index finger to Snape’s lips. “Are you going to go all silent on me again?”
“I’m just wondering why you’re here,” Severus said, coolly, and Harry raised both eyebrows at Snape’s suspicion. It was the truth, however, and Snape wasn’t about to be dishonest to Harry. Harry gave him an unsettlingly annoyed look, and rested his cheek against Snape’s shoulder.
“Let me ask you a question…” Harry nudged his nose into Severus’ shoulder, taking his glasses off and placing them on the bedding. “Why did you hate me so much when I was your student?”
Snape turned his face away and stared at the rug silently, wondering whether he should tell Harry what he really felt, or to let it fall into the category of “past”, where it was dismissed as something that didn’t matter. “It’s because you looked-and still look-like James.” Harry was quiet for a long moment, and Snape swallowed, not moving, and feeling incapable of showing emotion for not immediately shifting to put an arm around Harry. He knew a question was going to come, and it was going to either break their relationship once again, or it was going to seal it together seamlessly.
“…are you still in love with my father…?” He quietly questioned, tracing a finger down Snape’s arm and sliding a hand over his, almost as if he were encouraging the Potions Master to answer truthfully. Severus was torn between answering in a different way than was proper, which was to lie, or to tell him in the words of brutal truth. The lateness of the evening had blurred his logic with exhaustion, since all he had looked at were poorly finished essays.
“Let me reassure you, Harry, that things have changed…” Severus turned and cradled Harry’s jaw in both hands, and Harry leaned into his palms, trusting him not to let go. His calloused hands slid over Snape’s wrists, holding them lightly. It took all of his willpower to not lean down and kiss the younger wizard’s parted lips. “…I do love your father, in a deep, aching way. I needed him in a way that I can’t describe. I miss that need. But you, no matter how many times I said you were your father’s son, and that you two were exactly alike, you two are very different.” Harry’s green eyes closed, and Snape stroked some of his dark bangs from the light scar upon his forehead. “It is a different kind of affection, not primal need, not something I need to cling to. I…” he trailed off, and Harry let out a soft breath. “…I believe that you are no replacement for your father. If that is what you’re asking about. If I were asking for a duplicate of your father, I would be searching for someone more like Sirius Black. Even though I hate the dolt, he is the closest, personality wise, to being exactly like your father.” Severus felt his eyes close halfway, and a soft nuzzle against Harry’s nose was obviously welcomed by the young wizard. “Mmm…” a soft kiss was pressed to his lips, “…very…” a tongue was pressed into his mouth, and he devoured the invading tongue, a soft whimper escaping his parted lips, “…mm…different… “ His voice was hollow as his mouth was ravished. Pale cheeks flushed as he pushed forward, deeper into Harry’s mouth. Electricity shivered down his spine, and Harry slid his arms around Snape’s waist, hands clinging tightly to the dark green robes. Harry drew them immeasurably closer with his grip, and Snape pressed tightly to his student, letting out a soft whine. Harry pulled back, his lips reddened from the kiss, and his green eyes shining with a feverish heat.
“That was…incredible.” He gave a long breath and stared at Snape. Severus was silent, still trying to recover from a kiss so deep, so sudden, so earth shattering, as the one he had just been given. He blinked and gave up recovering when Harry went in for another kiss, only this time he fought back for domination, not letting the younger wizard take over. Tongues slicked together with a wonderfully sensual sensation, and Harry moaned tenderly, letting his former teacher take over. He tried to break away, just to gather his senses back, but he found himself pressed into the bedding, caged under Snape. Hips tightly pressed together, and Harry arched up his back further, grinding against him. Severus pulled away to gaze down upon Harry, studying the black hair strewn across his green silk pillowcases. “…mhn…you wear too much…” Harry tried to breathe, his green eyes dilated as he panted wildly. “…way…too much…” He grabbed at the front of Snape’s robes, yanking them up in heated desperation. Snape leaned down and nibbled at his neck, placing wet, rough kisses against the tender skin. Harry laughed a bit, his head tilting towards Snape’s lips. “You’re not helping, you know-ooh!” Harry gave a short little outburst, flushing deeply as he finally got Snape undressed down to his pants and socks. “…you need to see the sun a lot more…” Harry grinned at him, and Snape “tched” momentarily, muttering something vague that sounded like “I don’t need any sunlight.”. Harry’s breath quickened as his kisses spread downwards under the slenderly thin collarbone. A soft whine escaped his lips. “Severus…” he murmured, tangling his fingers into Snape’s hair. Harry could feel the cool air against the wetness upon his chest and neck, and his lips parted ever so slightly. His heartbeat thudded faster within his ears, and he breathed Snape’s name as he massaged Snape’s scalp, a soft tongue tracing tenderly over his belly. His fingers undid Harry’s pants; kissing and lapping at the soft curves of his hipbones, causing Harry to shiver and tighten his hands within Snape’s raven black locks. Harry heard the vague sound of the pyjama pants being untied with a soft schwiff, and he felt goosebumps rise upon his skin at the chill against his heated skin. A thin sheen of sweat started to build across his forehead and upper lip, tingling softly, and he gasped, feeling the thin cloth of his remaining garment slide down his hips. His hands began to sweat, and he gazed down at Snape, breathing roughly. He ached with a heated ferocity, and he bent his knees in an attempt to get Severus to relieve it.
“Hmm…do you like it here…?” Snape’s voice was muffled as he nudged his face underneath what ached most, his tongue pressing into the soft, long untouched skin between his sacs. Harry moaned, having to let go of Snape’s hair, since he was too far down for him to reach. Snape could feel his entire body shiver, from his back down to his thighs, and he started to gently lick. Harry’s breath was labored, and hands scrabbled at the sheets, leaving wet prints that quickly dried. He tossed his head back upon the pillows in frustration, nudging his body further into Snape’s mouth. Snape hooked his arms around Harry’s slender legs, spreading him further and leaving him completely open to his ministrations. Harry gave an aggravated sound, fighting for breath as he tried to reach downwards but was discouraged by the fact that his body kept on pushing onto the tantalizing tongue. He gave a tight groan, unable to speak, and Snape smiled a little, taking that as a yes.
Easing up the pressure upon the teenager, Harry laid there, hands trailing down his belly as his fingers ached to grasp himself. Snape undid the button of his pants, unzipping it slowly and letting Harry get a glimpse of rarely seen skin. Harry stared at his fingers, wide eyed, and he crawled forward shakily, smoothing his palms over the soft, pale skin of Snape’s belly, while pushing him downwards onto the sheets. The blankets had slid off the bed long ago, Harry having flailed them off in his pleasure, and Harry straddled him, looking down at him wonderingly. Harry seemed to be asking how he could lose control like he did, his green eyes bright.
A few moments later, along with an easy lubrication spell, had Harry biting his lip against the pain as he drew downwards onto Snape. “I guess…the snake…on the…Slytherin banner…isn’t the most…formidable…of them all…” Harry grinned, his hands resting upon Snape’s as they held his hips for support, his breath escaping his lips in soft pants. He let out a deep moan, tossing his head back as the perfect place was touched, his hands gripping Snape’s. He started moving rhythmically, his knees rubbing against the sheets. His hands separated from Snape’s to massage Severus’ belly as he moved, his green eyes shutting as his cheeks flushed further, the lubricant shining in the lamplight as his body moved. He gave a soft whine, arching further forward and pounding into him, the sudden increase in speed making Snape gasp for breath, the tight heat around him nearly making his eyes dilate to the point that he wasn’t seeing anything at all. All he could feel was the exhilarating sensation of another, warm body pressed against his, and Harry’s nose nuzzled into his neck, kissing and lapping at the skin in desperation as he shuddered. “Severus…mm…” he wanted to hear Snape’s voice, and was frustrated from the lack of acceptance. Apparently Harry was thinking more clearly than he, and Snape let his eyes slide shut, his hand sifting through sweat soaked black hair to cradle his head. He whispered into Harry’s ear, words of affection and praise. Harry’s breath entwined with his whimpers, and Snape felt something trickle down his shoulder. Harry pressed his hands against Snape’s, entwining his fingers with his former teacher’s as he moaned deeply, the sound emerging from deep inside of him. He let out a soft cry as he came, arching into Snape’s body as his essence spilled over their bodies and smeared as he moved once more. He clamped down upon his lover, and Severus climaxed quickly after him, gasping loudly and pushing into the space between Harry’s legs, watching himself become embedded completely into Harry’s body. Severus cried out Harry’s name, fireworks exploding in front of his eyes, and once his body was spent, Harry collapsed limply against him, his sobs quiet, muffled into his shoulder.
Severus slowly began to catch his breath, opening his eyes as he cradled Harry’s body close to his own. He nudged and shook Harry lightly, his black eyes worried. “…Harry…?”
His former student didn’t answer for a moment, snuffling into his thin shoulder, and Snape tilted Harry’s chin so he could gaze into his green eyes. He felt emotionally and physically exhausted, and he knew the sex wasn’t just for the sake of releasing built up energy. He stroked Harry’s wet black hair from his eyes, a concerned, rare expression on his face. Snape snagged the very end of the blanket, and wrapped it around both himself and Harry, watching him close his eyes to hide from the light, as well as the studying, all-knowing black pair owned by Severus Snape. Severus tangled his fingers inbetween Harry’s, studying him curiously. For once, he had no idea what was wrong. “Sorry ‘bout that…” Harry’s voice was nasal, and he sniffled again. Severus leaned forward and nuzzled against his nose, kissing his lips repeatedly. Harry sighed, kissing back and stroking Severus’ jawbone with his fingertips. He seemed soothed by the tender touches, and he slowly relaxed against Severus’ body. His green eyes opened, and he gave a warm, sated smile, looking lazy and tired-the ruddy colour upon his cheeks would take a long while to disappear. “I was…”
“Was what?” Severus brushed a hand through Harry’s damp hair, feeling his own thick, black strands stick to his face.
“…was just thinking…about how alone we both were before this…” Harry’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Snape rested his forehead against Harry’s own, listening intently. “I never thought that I’d be doing this with you, because of all the doubts I had…and here we are.”
Snape gave him a dry look. “Is there a point in you telling me this?”
Harry stuck his tongue out at Severus, so the Professor took advantage of it and gave him an extra deep kiss. “You’re a spoiled ninny, you know that?” He smiled as brightly as one could when they were exhausted. He paused, hesitating, for no apparent reason. “Merry Christmas,” he yawned, “you’d better try being more nice for the New Year, though.”
Snape snorted incredulously, and Harry laughed at his response. “Besides your wish for me to be nicer, I should wish you a Merry Christmas as well. And that I love you.” The words slipped before he could stop himself, and he mentally batted himself with one of the books sitting on his shelves. Harry stared at him, open-mouthed. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I’ll look at you any way I want to.” Snape and Harry both got into a staring contest soon after, the corner of Harry’s mouth twitching uncontrollably. Severus gave him a steadily serious look, trying his hardest not to laugh, his eyes soon watering after a long moment. Harry gave a soft snort through a nostril, a sound that resembled laughter, and Snape twitched as well, completely dissolving into laughter.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore carefully ascended down the stairs into the Dungeons to check up on Snape, since he hadn’t attended the Christmas dinner. Upon hearing the laughter coming from the slightly open door leading to Snape’s quarters, Dumbledore paused for a great while. He thought to himself for a moment, and then gave the wood a smile, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses. He folded his hands in front of himself and turned to leave the office.
“Quite a Merry Christmas indeed…” the great wizard trailed off, the sound of his footsteps fading away as he disappeared up the stairs.
--end—
AN: Oh my. That took a very…very…very long time…argh, I hope I didn’t make you guys wait too long. This piece didn’t come out as well as I thought it would…but I did try my best. I hope it came out all right, I’m staying up extra late to do it. I’m extremely tired, but it was important for me to put it out.
Acknowledgments:
WanderingTonberry, who helped me out in many ways with plot trouble and Moth, Snape’s owl. This is dedicated for her 16th birthday, since she’s helped me out with so many things that have happened this year and has supported me all the way.
To All My Reviewers: I love you all so much…you all gave the motivation to keep on writing. Thank you so much. It was so cool of you all to give me reviews.
I probably missed some people, and I’m really sorry-I’ll come back and change it if you’d like me to mention you personally. It’s almost 11:00 and I’m dying from lack of sleep.
The Meaning of the Title:
Cherry- sexuality
Iced- winter
Tea- warmth
Sprig- sparse
Mistetoe- kiss